Draco's Lust and the Darkness
by Dragons Spitfire
Summary: Love fights through the darkest of evil. Heartless killer...that's how the world saw Draco Malfoy. What was left of the world. So many dead. So much blood. Saving Hermione turns into a new & unbreakable love. Rated M for violence/gore/abuse/sexual content
1. The Breakdown

**Draco and the Darkness**

**By DragonsSpitfire**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter stories, or their amazing contents

Rated for sexual content, violence, gore, and language.

**A/N: Alright before I get started there are a couple of important issues I would like to address. My other novel, Emerald Fire, took me a great deal of work to create, and still it is not perfect. This story is almost a test of my creativity, a way of seeing how well I can use my imagination. I take great time and care in my writing, and would very very much appreciate any feedback that you may have for me. This feedback is what will make me the author that I long to be. When I am satisfied with my writing, I will begin my novel, and hope to one day get it published!**

**And if this fic gets a little tedious for you, because it is an experiment, please just take the chance to read my other fic, it may be more up your alley. This story is going to be dark, dismal, and graphic in all aspects, including romance. If you are not into these sorts of things, this is not the story for you. **

**So, and feedbacks, reviews that you have, please, they will be very very much appreciated. I work hard to create these stories, so taking a second from your reading to review would just make my day!**

**DragonsSpitfire**

**Introduction**

This is a story about the truth of mankind, and the constant battle for survival. In the true world, the reality is that nothing is as simple as in the books we read and cherish dearly. Being human means that every day there are new challenges awaiting us, new darkness's to fight. For some, this darkness may just be the vicious dog down the street, snapping and chasing while a little boy struggles to complete a paper route. For some, this darkness is much worse then that, and determines the borderline between life and death for thousands.

When admiring the world witchcraft and wizardry, we never really take into consideration the hardships for some set individuals. We read of Harry Potter and his great triumphs and battles, but what of the others who are caught amidst the toil and the turmoil? We do not think of the hearts of others, fighting for the dark side, protecting their loved ones. When we think of Harry Potter, we think of the greatness of the Boy Who Lived, rather then of the despair and never-ending perseverance of the ones fighting on the other side, torn between what is right and what is wrong.

In a world where everyone lies, where everyone steals and cheats and deceives, we find ourselves trapped. Trapped in a world where nothing seems fare, and nothing seems right.

For Draco, this world was far more dark and far more deadly then ever told in stories. Underestimated and undermined, he was described as cold, wicked, and cruel. The description of Draco Malfoy was only of the perspective of another, and not of Draco himself. If we were to look into the mind of Draco Malfoy, what would we see? The truth of the matter is that we would see something horrific, a story of violence and pain and ongoing suffering, without the chance of having the time to enjoy life as it should so often be enjoyed. He was a miserable, depressed person, with few hopes and no dreams to keep him going when he awoke every morning. Draco Malfoy used the pain of others to make up for the lack of joy in his own life, and he did it well. The fact of the matter was, that no matter how hard he tried to make himself happy, the always dwelling and stabbing memories haunted him day by day, night by night.

No one would ever understand the complex diversity of his mind, and no one would ever dare try. The ones he loved were few, and the ones who loved him, loved him out of fear and fear alone. The truth was, he was alone, forever trapped in a world of unforgiving blackness and regret, and nothing in his world or any one else's would convince him otherwise.

This is a story unlike any you have read. This is the true story, from the eyes of Draco Malfoy. A lonely, bitter boy, who spent his days serving under a name he did not agree to, or find any satisfaction. This is a story of love, disseat, and pain.

This is Draco's story.

**Chapter One**

**The Breakdown**

Draco Malfoy, at the age of twenty, sat alone and miserable that night. It seemed an eternity ago that he, a young and unpleasant student, attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with many others. It had been almost three years since the battle. In the stories, they tell how the great Boy Who Lived finally destroyed Voldemort for good. The truth behind the children stories is that, Voldemort did not die that day at Hogwarts, and Harry did not triumph. The real story is that, in fact, the Dark Lord had conquered all the world of wizardry, along with his loyal subjects and cowardly servants. Harry was the one who had fallen that day, along with so many others.

The rest of the greater good side, had been taken to stay in the slave castle which now occupied the school of Hogwarts, where the people who had stood for what was right were tortured and made into slaves. Any and all who defied the Dark Lord's wishes were banished here, guarded by mobs of Dementors and Trolls, and dark creatures that had been unknown to the wizarding world before Voldemort had reigned supreme. Voldemort had become so powerful, that the entire world and all of its muggles, on every continent and every small portion of the globe, were subject to his will. He had become so strong and now had so many followers, that the possibility of ever destroying him, seemed so distant that not one person dared stand up to him now.

So there he sat, the blonde boy who had once played quidditch and studied so hard in school. Malicious and cold, he did his masters bidding. He had killed, laid eyes on the crimson of human blood staining his own hands, and he had done it well. His face was still the same porcelain pale it had always been, but now, instead of beautiful silver eyes, he had empty dull ones.

He never smiled. He never laughed. He never enjoyed a minute of the day. His father told him over and over that some day, their service to the Dark Lord would be rewarded, and that they would be the most powerful family in the entire world.

_My father is a foolish, ambitious man. _

Staring out the window at the Malfoy Manor, Draco found this was the first time he had actually had the chance to have some time to himself. Though in his life he almost wished he had someone to talk to, anyone. He hid his unhappiness by being mean to others, and he knew this was a cowardly thing to do. He knew he was cruel, and a terrible person. He did not agree to the things he did, or the crimes he committed, but to save the lives of his family and friends, he did them all the same.

He did not have complete knowledge of who was alive and who was dead. He knew that Harry Potter was dead, he had seen him fall. Voldemort seemed to have a desire to keep as many alive as possible, as though he wanted them to suffer even more. Weasley was alive somewhere, trapped in one of the many rooms of Hogwarts. They were all trapped there, and had been for almost three years.

Draco shivered at the thought, though in some ways he felt he would rather be trapped in there then killing and doing wrong out of those stone walls he once called home. He did not feel it was fare for the muggles and mudbloods to be punished, they had done nothing wrong.

Suddenly, a loud banging sounded off the oak door of his bedroom.

Draco spun around fast from where he sat on his bed.

"Come in." He croaked, turning and staring back out the glass window to the grounds below.

"Master Draco." Croaked an old and feeble-looking house elf. "Mistress Narcissa requests a word with you sire."

Draco forced a stiffened smile, as the creature bowed low before him and exited the room promptly. He hated being called 'sire', he wasn't a king, or an emperor. He was a 'nobody'.

He let out a soft breath, running his long thin fingers through his blonde hair. He stood from where he had been sitting, he felt stiff and sore from all the work he had been doing.

Making his way down the scarlet carpeted staircase, and through the mahogany entrance hall, he passed by many great oak doors, before he came to the door of his mothers private bedroom. She and Lucius did not share a bed, or a room for that matter. She despised him just as Draco did.

Many house elves scattered about briskly, clattering trays and pulling the blankets up around her narrow pointed chin. She was pale and sickly looking that evening, even more then usual, and her hair no longer sparkled yellow in the torchlight.

She was very sick.

She had been sick for almost three years.

In order to keep Draco's service, among many other devious plots, making Narcissa sick was one of them. Draco cared for her more then himself, and loved her more then any. She was his safe house, the kindest, most beautiful woman, forced into marriage at the age of fifteen, miserable and wretched throughout her entire life, until Draco was born.

She forced a weak smile as he walked over to the bed and sat next to her, placing his hand on hers. She was cold as ice, and white as the moon on the fullest of nights. She coughed gently into a handkerchief, elegant and sophisticated as always. She was as classy as she was beautiful, the most beautiful witch in England.

She deserved to be happy.

He smiled back at her, watching is she tucked the handkerchief inside of her palm, stained with blood. Draco pretended not to notice this, and continued looking into her icy blue eyes with compassion and longing.

"My son." She said ever so gently, resting her soft but chilling hand on his face. Draco took his own hand and rested it on hers, forcing another smile. "It won't be much longer before I am gone –cough- and I want you to know that no matter what you have done, I know that you have done it for the right reasons."

She hoisted herself up gently, coughing daintily once more.

"Careful, mother." Draco whispered, helping her to sit up and pulling the pillow up behind her head. "You need rest."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling even through the obvious pain.

"I have something for you, my child."

Draco watched, eye brows lowered as she reached under her mattress, removing a small piece of parchment, and placing it in his hand, her own hand trembling with his touch. His once beautiful mother was now decrepit and dying, with little time left, and there was nothing he could do. And his father, why would his father help? His father cared nothing but for his own ambition and glory. If Draco could run away, he would, but there was nowhere to run. Voldemort was everywhere.

Draco went to open the parchment, only to have his mother stop him.

"Not here, dear." She muttered, her eyelids flickering with drowsiness. "Somewhere private, and secluded, far from the eyes of your father or anyone else."

Draco nodded, watching her as she rested her head back, and let her eyes fall closed.

"You are everything to me, my son." She said softly while falling into sleep. "You are my reason for always fighting to live; you were the only thing that kept me going. I thought that day three years ago, when the Dark Lord thought he had killed Harry, in that thicket, would stop all this. I told him Harry was dead, thinking Harry could finally end all of this, but I was wrong."

"You were amazing, mother." Said Draco, stroking her face. "You did what you could, and for the right reasons."

She let out a stifled sigh, and then her breathing seemed to wither, until it had stopped entirely.

She was dead, Draco knew she was dead.

His eyes began watering uncontrollably, as he leaned forwards to hold her close to him. She felt stiff and frozen.

Tears began falling down his face, like streams of clear salty regret and hatred. He hated his father, and he hated Voldemort. He felt his grip around his mother's waist tighten with rage, as he let out a loud choking sob.

He had not cried for years.

"_A Malfoy, never cries."_

That was what his father had told him.

He continued clinging to his mother, sobbing louder and louder into her shoulder. The house elves had began to understand what was happening, and were all standing around her bedside, heads bowed in honor of their great mistress.

Draco lifted his head, summoning one of them forward.

"You may go tell my father that his wife is no longer with us." He said coldly, his voice shaking, knowing that theses words would not faze Lucius Malfoy in any way.

The house elf bowed, also wiping away a single tear, as he trotted out the door and into the foyer. Narcissa had always treated the house elves equal.

Draco clung to the piece of parchment tightly, deciding that he must leave the room and take it out of sight before his father came in. He knew what Lucius would do. He would waltz into the room, watch her lying there for a moment, and then leave. He would do this just to make sure it was the truth, and then contact the Dark Lord with the news.

Eyes burning, heart racing, and fists clenched, he made his way back up to his room, shutting the door and locking it tight, before making his way over to his bed and sitting down, staring at the parchment. He wondered what on earth could be so important that it would be one of his mother's last decisions. He took the parchment carefully, taking a deep breath and unfolding it.

It was covered in scribbles of his mother's handwriting, messy and wobbly due to the fact that she was so sick. It said:

_**Draco, I have found something that may give all of mankind, wizards and muggles alike, a second chance at freedom. I have been using the house elves to explore and spy on everything going on in this manor. There is a plot. This is something I thought you might find useful.**_

_**Mother.**_

Draco read farther down, realizing that it was a recipe to a potion. It was the most complex potion he had ever seen, with more ingredients and more steps then anything he had learned in Hogwarts. It was called the 'Potion of Second Breath'. It was a resurrection potion, to bring back the dead. Where could his mother possibly have found this, when no wizard had ever successfully resurrected anyone properly? He read over the entire potion, and then glanced at the bottom. In his mothers writing it said:

_**Harry Potter.**_

_**Find the Granger girl.**_

"Merlin," Draco whispered, flipping the page over to make sure there was nothing else written on it. "Mother this could never work."

There was something else on the back, though it was very messy and looked as though it was interrupted.

_**Manifest, 456**_

What did that mean? Draco hadn't a clue. He sat there thinking until his brain ached, and still he thought of nothing that it could mean. He was overwhelmed with the idea of resurrecting Potter, he hated Potter with ever waking of his being, and wanted him to remain dead. Draco, though sensitive and in pain, was still a selfish, cruel person, due to the way he was brought up. He knew this as a fact, but chose to accept it.

Find the Granger girl? How in Merlins name did she expect him to do that? Finding the mudblood Granger would be no simple task. He would have to break into his fathers study, find the list of all the slaves and search for hers, and find out where she was. Then he would have to hide her, and brew a potion with her. It all seemed very farfetched and very impossible. Not to mention, that if Potter couldn't destroy the Dark Lord before, what made her sure he could do it now? Maybe it was to do with what she had written on the back of the parchment.

Draco closed his fist around the parchment, wanting to destroy it. He hated Potter and he hated Granger, more then anything. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was find one and resurrect the other.

He would have nothing of it.

Then he sat there for a moment longer. All the lives he could save, if he were to succeed. He could bring joy back to the world, and save the people in it. Although, Potter would get the credit, just as he always did. He hated Potter, and Hermione, that sniffling little bookworm, always nosing about and never minding her own business, he wanted nothing to do with either of them.

He sighed, knowing what must be done.

"If it is my mothers wish, then it must be done." He muttered softly, standing up suddenly off of his bed and beginning to walk forwards towards his door once more.

"Look out Granger, here I come to find you."

**A/N: Well, I bet it's definitely different isn't it? I find that in a lot of these fics with Draco/Hermione, people give into making Draco way too nice of a character. The truth is, that with all the torment and bad things he must have endured, making him suddenly become compassionate and loving is a little farfetched. Then again so is Hermione and Draco being in love. I am going to take great care into making Draco the most unique character I can, and I would like as much feedback as possible. **

**And I can't help it if Hermione and Draco are farfetched, I'm just addicted to the couple!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Do it for me. I need the inspiration and the motivation!**

**Thanks**

**DragonsSpitfire**


	2. Finding Hermione Granger

**AN: Alright so, here goes really taking a crack at this story. I know that many of you loved Emerald Fire, and I am hoping this one will be even more enjoyable. You relax, read, and enjoy, AND TRY TO REVIEW! It's the click of one button, and it makes me very happy! **

**DragonsSpitfire**

**Chapter Two**

**Finding Hermione Granger**

Nothing made Draco more dissatisfied then the idea of seeing Hermione Granger again. He felt bitter towards that female more then any other. She had this way about her of making everyone feel less of a person then she was, and she did it well. He knew that the only way he was going to be able to accomplish this task with her was to just, deal with it. Deep down inside, however, Draco wanted things to change. He was not happy, he knew that. Even if it meant having Potter back, and speaking with Hermione Granger again, after three long and hard years, it would be worth it to end this chaos.

He knew exactly what he must do. The image of his fathers study was painted perfectly in his mind, he had been in there so many times before. He could see the cherry desk, and the leather seats, and the great Slytherin crest engraved into a steel plaque on the green papered walls. Inside the desk, second drawer down on the right, his father kept a leather bound book. This book had listed all the muggles and traitors who were kept at Hogwarts, and various other slave prisons scattered across the entire world. Draco thought, his father must be sick to keep this list, and overly obsessed with the power of being able to right it down.

Draco descended the great staircase, feet padding on soft carpeting. There was a great ruckus going on down the hallway, it was Lucius growing angry at one of the house elves. His voice pierced into Draco's soul like the Dementors kiss.

"WHY IS MY WIFE'S BODY STILL HERE!?" He snarled. Draco heard the sound of him smacking one of the innocent little creatures across the face. "HOW DARE YOU LEAVE HER HERE FOR ME TO LOOK AT! GET HER AND HER DISGUSTING SMELL OF DEATH OUT OF MY MANOR BEFORE IT IS YOU LYING THERE LIFELESS! GO! NOW!"

Draco felt a great anger swelling deep within his chest, devouring him. He wanted nothing more then to kill his father for those words. How dare he –or any man for that matter- insult their wife in such a manor. No regret, no despair, just rage and violence. He hated his father. He hated him.

Draco, knowing that this may be his only real opportunity, shoved away his thoughts of murdering his father, and continued swiftly towards the door into his Lucius's study. It was dark in the hallway, torches flickered and danced as he passed, illuminating the floor in small orbs on the emerald carpeting. His feet made soft thumping sounds, but for the majority he was very quiet, as he looked behind his shoulder to make sure no one was coming. He reached for the large marble carved door knob, and turned it very gently to avoid making a sound.

It squeaked ever so softly, and he cringed at the sound. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath, and then continued to turn the knob. The door pushed open with a soft creak, revealing the red illuminated study and the desk, centered under a massive chandelier of crystal and gold plated steel. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, Draco made his way over to the desk, reaching for the drawer and yanking it open. There was the book, leather and calling his name.

He licked his lips, anxious to get his hands on it. Snatching it up, he flicked briskly through the pages. A long list of names, as well as ages and gender, covered the pages and went on throughout the entire book. They were in alphabetical order, and he skipped through it quickly.

He looked up in paranoia. The thought of his father catching him was almost too much to bear. He flipped faster, seeing names that rang bells in the back of his head, but not stopping to take the time to read. Then he was in the G's, scanning through them with his finger, looking up once more at the door and straining his ears, making sure no one was coming. His hands began to shake as he got closer and closer.

Graffer. . .

Grallis. . .

Granger. . .

"Granger!" He called out loud in excitement, smiling to himself and scrolling his finger over to read the description. He scanned the page with his eyes and felt his heart sink at what he read.

**Granger, Hermione Age:20 Female Dark Tower, Confined Cell 3**

"The Dark Tower?" He repeated, his breath hoarse and soft, shaking as he read the words over and over again, as though in disbelief. "She will surely be dead."

He threw the book down violently, collapsing down into the massive chair in an almost trans, his eyes glazed as he stared blankly at the wall, running his pals fingers through his hair as he tried to think of a possible action to take.

The Dark Tower was known to the followers of the Dark Lord as so, because it was the worst and darkest place a prisoner can be sent. The slaves who are sent there, are of the highest betrayal and are the people who angered Voldemort the most. He sent them there to be tortured until near death, and then brought back to health, and then tortured until near death once more. Forever they were to live this terrible life, never seeing the light of day or hearing the voice of another human being. She would surely be insane, or broken, if not dead. He shuddered at the thought of getting her out of that place.

He would have to come up with a plan, and it would have to be a very good one.

As he stared blankly about, suddenly he noticed a name on the page in which the book had flipped to when he had launched it. He leaned forward and read:

**Weasley, Ronald Age:20 Male Dark Tower, Confined Cell 5**

He shook as he read the small script beside the name, which read the word "_Deceased"._

The thought of Ron being dead gave him a slight satisfaction, and he smirked to himself. If Ron was dead, and it said so, that means Hermione must still be alive. The thought of Granger surviving the slave castle and tortures over Weasley amused him, and he snickered to himself as he shut the book and tossed it back in the drawer. He jumped slightly, as there was a soft tapping on the door.

He felt a sudden panic overcome him, as he searched around for somewhere to hide.

"Draco, are you in there?" Said a soft voice from the other side.

Draco sighed with a great relief, standing up and brushing off his clothing. He cleared his throat, and closed the small desk drawer. He walked towards the large door and pulled it open, peering out and seeing the crystal blue eyes of Pansy Parkison staring at him almost in a mischievous manor. He forced a slight smile, trying not to look as though he was up to anything too devious. She smirked at him widely, her eyes flashing as she stepped closer to where he was, arching her neck in a solid attempt to see what was inside his father's study.

He shut the door more, to keep her from looking. He didn't like just how nosey that spoiled little pureblood witch had become.

She looked a little flustered, but seemed to brush it off almost instantly, looking at him and smirking like the trouble-maker that she was. She stepped a little bit closer, her mouth nearly touching his own.

"Darling, what are you doing in there?" She asked rather loudly, making him wince. He was nervous that his father would hear her talking, and come running.

Pansy had been staying at the Manor for well over a year now, skulking in and out of the corners, watching him and eyeing his every move hungrily. She was a gold-digging hussy and wanted nothing more then the Malfoy fortune. Although, what good would fortune do nowadays anyway, when all was clouded in darkness? Maybe she just liked him for who he was. He, however, was not particularly interested. If you were to ask him if he had slept with her, the answer would have been yes. He had slept with her, more times then he could remember, but purely out of sexual desire, and not out of love. He had taken her in the wildest places imaginable, touching and violating her in ways most girls would find repulsive. His desires were overwhelming and she would let him do the things most men would only fantasize about. The lust of a killing machine bearing the last name Malfoy was almost unbearable, and she was the only thing around with two legs and breasts. It was either lay with Pansy, or go without any physical intercourse at all.

Truth be told, she wasn't half bad. She had piercing blue eyes that you could get lost in. Her face was fare and pale, with long black hair cascading over her shoulders and down past her elbows. There had never been a real connection between them, and Draco knew there never would be. He also knew that he was betrothed to her, and this frightened him. He did not want to be caught in a marriage not of his desire, as his mother had been. This idea gave him shivers down his spine.

He suddenly realized that she was still waiting for his reply, and he stiffened.

"Erm," He attempted to think quickly.

_Anthing Draco, anything. _

"I was just, looking through the book, to find the name of one man that the Dark Lord has ordered me to kill." He lied, gulping softly and stepping out of the study, closing the door behind him with a click. "But, I'm all done now, so, I guess I will see you around-"

But before he could begin walking down the corridor, she had grabbed hold of his shoulder, and turned him to look at her.

He felt taken back.

How dare she touch him that way, she had no right. He was a Malfoy. She looked excited at what he had previously told her, and she inched closer to him, wrapping her long thin arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. He cringed slightly, though did not pull away. He had to be nice to her; he didn't have the slightest hope of a choice in the matter.

"Killing someone?" She repeated, biting down on her finger in a very brat-like manor. "I love when you kill Draco, you're just so sexy when you're angry. Let me come, I would love to come. The sight of you taking a life would get me so aroused, and you know what that means."

She giggled into his ear, her breath running down his neck, making him shiver in displeasure as she reached between his legs and rubbed rather painfully. He pushed her away violently, taking her by the arms and moving her to the side of where he had been trying to walk.

She had always wanted him, and followed him everywhere. He didn't like this, he liked a challenge. Although, he had never really had a challenge with a member of the opposite sex before. On the contrary, he never had single problem getting a girl that he desired.

"Drakie," Pansy whimpered, reaching her hand out. "What's the matter baby, why don't you come up to my quarters for a little while, we can catch up on the last few days you've been away on business."

He pulled his face away as she closed her eyes and puckered her lips towards his. He ducked under her arm, sliding out from under her vulture-like hold. Thought it seemed only moments before he had heard the loud and angry footsteps of his father, large steel toed shoes coming their way. He gasped in fear, thinking of something he could do to make it look innocent. Then, shuttering at the thought, he grabbed the guts and pulled Pansy towards him. She giggled as he yanked her into a passionate lip locking, massaging her body all over with his hands. She was cold and boney. He did this just in time for his father to round the corner of the hallway, mouth open as though ready to be very angry, cane raised in one hand.

Draco opened his eyes, pretending to be surprised as he saw his father standing there, eyes wide.

Draco wiped his lips with the back of his hand, grinning devilishly towards his father and raising his eyebrows. He knew his father would not get angry with this; he wanted his son to be more involved with Pansy.

"Father." Draco said, acting as though he hadn't heard him coming. "My apologies. Me and dear Pansy were just trying to get some alone time." He raised his arm, shaking from fear of being caught, or Pansy opening her big fat mouth, and raised it over her shoulder. She grinned wickedly, obviously not clueing in that he was just using her as a subtle distraction.

Lucius eyed them both curiously, cane lowering by his side as he relaxed. Then, with a swoop of his cape, he had disappeared back the way from whence he came. Once he had vanished, Draco gave a great sigh of relief, letting his arms relax at his side. Pansy turned to look at him, smiling and reaching to pull him back towards her.

He glared at her, swatting her hand away.

"Not now Pansy." He hissed, as he turned without another word to her and vanished down the hallway and out of her sight. She just stood there, disappointed and miserable, watching his beautiful body stride in the opposite direction of her bedroom. Such a complicated individual, cruel and mean, and yet at the same time the most gorgeous and amazing person she had ever met. He was strong and never weak, with eyes that could burn through a soul.

Draco felt the gears in his head turning, and turning fast. He had to think of a way of getting Granger out of there. He hid in the solitary confinement of his room, pacing backwards and forwards repetitively. He knew that there must be a way, he trusted in his mother. Oh, his dear mother, how he missed her already.

"Why am I doing this anyway!?" Draco snarled, grabbing hold of the lamp beside his bed and throwing it to the floor with a loud crash. "I hate Potter! And I hate Granger!"

He stopped what he was doing momentarily, realizing what he was doing. He had begun to lose his mind, talking to himself and screaming while no others were around. He had become unsure of what he was to do, and completely despised this idea that his mother had put into his head. He felt furious, enraged, and violent. He wanted nothing to do with that muggle born. Though, inside, he knew she was not really any different then him, and that's the reason he was resurrecting her. In fact, she was far better then him, even with his accurate accelerations in potions class, and his devoted studying. No matter how hard he tried she had always beaten him in class. No matter how hard he tried, Harry had always beaten him in quidditch.

He hated them both.

Then he stopped to think about how frightened Granger must be, tortured daily and locked alone in a small cell with little food or water, in the tallest tower of Hogwarts. Even for Granger, he felt compassion. He shivered to think what guarded her up there. He knew it must be many trolls and Dementors, all waiting to suck the life out of any trespassers. What Draco had always wondered, was why the Dark Lord protected his slaves so, when he feared nothing anymore? There must have been something he feared, some little detail.

Then Draco had a plan, and it was genius. He stood up fast from where he had collapsed on his bed, smirking maliciously and walking towards his cabinet. From there he grabbed a black cloak, draping it over his toned body and pulling the hood up above his head. He then made sure he had his wand handy. Then, standing with his face half hidden in the darkness of his hood, and his perfect lips pursed into a smile, he vanished right where he stood. The feeling of his stomach being sucked in filled and overwhelmed him, as he spun endlessly through time and space, before landing with a _thunk_ on the cool, damp grass of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It had changed considerably, though he had been here before he couldn't help but stare. The once blue, sunny sky was now littered with clouds of smog. Blacksmith sites scattered along the hillside up to the front entrance. The path ascending was lined with hundreds of burning torches, the sky so dark that they produced the only considerate lighting. Draco pulled his hood further over his head, and began towards the great double wide front doors he had once passed through countless times in good fun and innocence.

Now he was twenty, it was time to grow up and stop dwelling in the past. He took a deep breath, remaining as calm as possible, as he neared the doors. There two massive trolls stood, with axes larger then Draco was, snarling and growling as he approached, looking over him with their black beady eyes. He snickered softly to himself; it wouldn't be difficult fooling trolls. They were dumber then a bag of chocolate frogs.

He took a deep breath, as the trolls lowered their axes to block his path, spluttering and cursing under their breath.

**A/N: Hey guys! I am so excited for this fic, I hope you are too. I have a ton of great plans for it, but I need reviews! R&R!! **


	3. Torture & Turmoil

**A/N: So on with chapter three, I just can't believe the number of hits I'm getting on this fic, THAT'S GREAT! **

**These chapters opening into this fic are very dark and dramatic. . . but I give you my word that once this story is complete the romance and love will be well worth the wait. . . and please, suggestions of plot are always welcome, as always.**

**Dragons Spitfire**

**Chapter Three**

**Torture and Turmoil**

_Malfoy Manor, England, 15 years ago_

Atop the rickety and inactive shelves sat jars and small bottles, all lined in a row and dull from the dust. The cobblestone floor was littered in cob webs, some much larger then others, and tiny creatures scuttled across its cold hard surface. On the far side of the chilly basement sat piles of unwanted furniture, disposed of and forgotten. Old cloaks and hats hung from the dirty walls, and all was silent.

A small boy sat under a wobbling wooden table, arms hugged tightly around his legs and pale pointed chin rested on his shaky knees. He buried his face in these shaky knees, sobbing softly and rocking backwards and forwards, the smell of old furniture wafting in through his tiny nostrils.

At five years old, the boy, though perfectly tall for his tender age, had thin blonde hair, and icy silver eyes. His teeth chattered as he raised his pale face, glancing around the room in the desperate hopes that his father had left him in peace. Though, his father never left him in peace. At the age of five Draco Malfoy already knew everything there was to know about an evil man known as the Dark Lord, and how one day he and his father would fight along side each other and triumph over everything and everyone. He did not know what this meant, he was only five.

Thinking these thoughts through in the childish way that all children did at that age, Draco began sobbing once more, gasping for air and choking on his hot salty tears. He buried his face once more into his knees, and continued to rock back and forth with ease. The cold air down in that cellar made him shiver, and he felt frightened. He whimpered quietly.

Thump.

Very sharply and suddenly a loud sound came from up the towering wooden staircase ahead of him. The little boy, blonde and alone, sobbing uncontrollably, peered through the darkness in front of him, attempting desperately to see the slightest glimpse of what had made the sound.

Thump.

"Mother?" He said in a hushed and soft voice, his tears halting for one minor moment as he looked up the stairs, hoping to no end that it was her. How he longed to hold her long soft hair in his hands, as a young child does.

Thump.

The haunting and utterly chilling sounds of strong steps and boots made their way to the little boy's ears, and he once again buried his face into his knees. It was not his mother. He began rocking faster, as though he believed it would take him some place far away, away from his father, where he and his mother could hide and be happy.

The footsteps began to get louder and louder, ever step towards him making Draco's heart beat faster and faster. Once again his eyes burned with tears, searing in pain as though bees were stinging them repetitively. Then, one sudden and last footstep sounded just in front of him, and all sound stopped altogether. Draco remained there, face hidden and tears flowing, sniffling and pretending he did not exist.

The man in front of him cleared his throat abruptly, but still Draco hid his pale, washed face. His body stiffened at the sound of the man, and still he rocked himself backwards and forwards, his little bare Malfoy toes hitting the cold stone floor each time he did. Then the man came towards him in a hurry, the sound of his cloak swishing. Draco cringed as the man snatched him up by the shoulder, making it ache in pain. Unlike most small children, Draco had learned the feeling of real pain when he was very young, and felt it every day. He felt it every second.

As the cold hard grasp of Lucius Malfoy pulled him to his feet, the little boy coward behind his thrown out arms, not daring to look into his fathers icy blue eyes. He was shaking violently all over, his breaths releasing from his lips in violent and raspy movements.

"Look at me boy." His father hissed quietly, though the sound of his voice was chilling and angry. "Look at me this instant."

The little boy did not, he only continued to shield his face, whimpering and letting his body fall limp to Lucius's firm hold on his shoulder.

"You will obey me!" He father hollered, taking his son by both the shoulders and shaking him in a violent rage. The boy's eyes snapped open in fear, meeting the cold blue stare of the man he hated. At the age of five, the boy known as Draco Malfoy hated his father. He hated his father's cane, which he always carried with him. He hated his eyes, and his face, and the very way he looked at him. He hated. . . his father.

"Daddy, you are hurting me." The little boy whispered, shivering at his father's cold touch. "Please daddy, it hurts-"

"Silence boy!" His father spat ferociously, saliva splattering onto Draco's face underneath his glossy eye. The boy whimpered once more, not daring to argue with a man so powerful and so cruel. He had been watching this same thing happen to his beloved mother since the day he was born, the thought made him shutter. He was young, but he understood the meaning of violence.

Then Lucius began dragging the helpless child towards a locked door, leading into a pantry. He wretched the door open and tossed his son inside with full force. Draco hit the hard cold stone ground once more, landing on his knees and sobbing in pain. He couldn't see, everything was blurry from tears. He crawled along the stone towards the door, trying desperately to get out, scrambling and crying.

"Daddy please, not the dark, not the dark daddy."

Lucius stared at him coldly; hand on the doorframe as he watched his five year old child struggle to escape from the pantry. Spiders scuttled across the ground and dust layered the shelves. Draco grabbed onto his fathers leg, holding on out of sheer fear. Nothing scared him more then the dark, not even Lucius.

"Get off of me!" He roared, kicking his leg forwards. Draco was sent flying towards the back end of the pantry, hitting the shelves and falling once more, a now small heap of robes on the floor. He sobbed louder now, though this time he didn't move. He sobbed and sobbed.

"No son of mine will have a fear of the dark!" Lucius snapped. "This will help you get over it!"

And with his last and most heartless words spoken, the door of the pantry was slammed closed, and the little boy was plunged into utter darkness. He could not see an inch in front of his nose, and nothing scared him more. The feeling of hot tears ran down his bare arms, wet and frightening. He shivered uncontrollably, hearing the sounds of his father ascending the staircase and leaving him there, locked in a pitch black room alone. His pale palms lay against the hard rock, and his forehead rested there as well. Eyes clamped shut, he tried to think of something happy.

Being five, he did not understand why his father did this, nor did he know of the more frightening things to come in the future.

_Hogwarts, Present_

Draco stood at the foot of the old stairs he had once walked every day, staring the massive trolls in their beady black eyes. He smirked wickedly towards them, as they blocked his path from entering the castle.

"I have been sent here by Lord Voldemort."

The creatures both shuddered at the sound of his name. They too, were afraid of the dark wizard ruling the world around them. One of the trolls stared at him, its face twisted and scaly.

"The Dark Lord informed us of no such visit, Deatheater." It growled, low and frightening.

Draco glared towards them, removing his hood from over his face. Seeing him, they both stepped back once, shifting nervously about and gurgling under their breaths.

"Malfoy, why did you not say so, sire?" The other creature droned, bowing his head towards the blonde boy standing, wanting nothing more then to pass. Draco bowed his head as well, his breathing low and calm, though his hands shook slightly.

"Voldemort has sent me on a very urgent mission, you would not want to upset him." Draco hissed, his cold silver eyes darting backwards and forwards between the two massive creatures standing before him. They muttered amongst one another for a moment, before turning back to him with eyes of low intelligence.

"And, you are most welcome, sire." Said one of the trolls, as they both raised their massive pointed axes from where they had sat crossed, and both stepped to the side. Draco gave them one more slight nod, pulling his darkened hood back over his head, and shielding his face. He then ascended the stairs into the dark entrance hall beyond.

There was nothing Draco hated more then the dark.

The once great entrance hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at a time filled with beautiful portraits and stone statues, now sat littered with the bones of muggles and pools of blood. The smell of death filled Draco's nostrils, and he threw his sleeve over his nose almost by instinct. The feeling of nausea passed into his stomach, making his mouth water and his throat stiffen. The smell was overpowering.

Although it had been three long and miserable years since he had been inside these castle walls, he knew his way up to the tower. This school where he had once come to flee from his life of pain and fear. He stared at the spot where he had once been transfigured into a ferret, and cascaded from the walls and floor by that terrible Auror, Professor Moody. Draco smirked to himself at the thought of the old man dead.

As he walked further and further he continued to think about Granger, and how the image of her made him sick. He did not know, once he rescued her, what he was going to do with her. He figured she must be just as dirty and smelly as ever, being locked up here for three years. He just shuddered all over at the thought of it.

There were footsteps coming from the corridor ahead of him, and the light from torches began illuminating the stone walls. Draco panicked, searching desperately for somewhere to hide. He spun on a heel, squeezing behind one of the very old armor sets against the wall. He remembered these, and there they were three years later, dusty and rusting. He peered from behind the arm, as a group of at least ten small imp-like creatures hopped along the floor, passing him without any notice. They hissed and croaked to one another in a language Draco could not interpret, and disappeared around the corner.

The corridor went dark once more, and Draco continued on his mission. He knew that he was now on the third floor, and had to make his way up to the Dark Tower. It was going to be a very long hike up all of those stairs, one he had not done since Divination in the third year.

It was cold in the castle, and the smell of rotting flesh continued to linger, even when he passed over the balcony overlooking the courtyard. His long black robes swished behind him in the breeze through the windows, and his blonde hair danced softly against his face. His eyes were stubborn and icy, determined to find Granger, as much as he detested the idea entirely. He thought for a moment, realizing he couldn't remember exactly what she looked like.

A near lifeless body lay scattered among the straw bedding of cell block 3. Hair thin and askew, skin pale and almost frozen, the 20 year-old who had been once known throughout the wizarding world as Hermione Granger, struggled for life. Bones aching as though made of sharp steel, and fingernails torn to the skin and bloody, she did not move from where she lay. Her flesh was caked with dirt, and her clothing was ripped and torn.

She had forgotten who she was, or what things had been like before this terrible life of torture and rape. With a hex cast on her to prevent her from killing herself, she could do nothing to end the madness. Cold iron bound her arms and her legs together, the flesh around them ripped and layered in hanging skin. They had not been removed from her in three years. Cuts and scrapes covered her once beautiful porcelain face, dripping with crimson blood and pooling beneath where her cheek rested.

The thoughts of her old friends had not crossed her mind in a very long time, she had forgotten their faces. She had forgotten what laughter was, and joy. She was so broken and lost that she had even forgotten how to cry. Three long years had dragged by for what seemed to her like an eternity. She was an emotionless waste of a human life, miserable and wretched. She wished nothing more then to die.

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound, as the door of her cell was thrown open. Hermione knew what these sounds were, but did not budge from where she lay. Three years ago she would have spent every night of her life, struggling to fight off the creatures who visited her in her cell. Now, she just lay there closing her eyes and wishing to awake from her nightmare.

These creatures were the creation of Lord Voldemort himself, born from the fire of a Hungarian Horntail. They were a breed of half human, half monster, with long arms and sharp teeth, with the remaining characteristics of a person. They did not feel like a person when they touched her. They were rough-skinned and violent, with sharp nails that stung her skin and long snake-like tongues. They spoke in a language she could not understand, and never let a night go by where they didn't come to have their fill of her.

The feeling of one of their scaly hands grasping her hair still did not faze her. She lay there, until the creature gave an incredibly painful jerk on her brown locks, and yanked her backwards from her stomach. She yelped in pain, as she fell backwards onto the damp straw she called a bed. Clamping her eyes shut tightly, she waited as the first of the three creatures mounted itself atop of her body, its hot steamy breath running down her chest and chilling her spine. She shivered as its long, slimy, and cold tongue ran up her cheek, and its hands began tearing her clothing away from between her legs. The other creatures laughed hysterically as Hermione held her breath, ready for the same torture she received every waking night of her life.

She felt the creature pushing itself against her stiff body, and bit down on her lip and prepared herself.

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound, and all three of the creatures turned to look towards the door, where a dark figure was standing, a wand outstretched in hand. Hermione gasped softly, as the heavy weight atop of her was lifted, and the monster stood to see what was in the doorway.

"Avada Kedavera!"

Hermione clamped her eyes shut tightly as a great green flash of light filled her cell. She had not seen the light of day in years, and her eyes watered in agony, running down her cheeks. She lifted a very weak and shaky hand over her forehead, and squinted forwards. The green light had gone away, and the monster that had been on top of her seconds before now lay dead beside her on the straw. She gasped, now nearly blinded from the green light and not been able to see much more ahead of her.

Chest caving inwards and outwards heavily, she looked around desperately and blind. Then another green light flashed, and a third, and all went quiet. Sensing the flashing had stopped, she removed her hand from her face and slowly opened her eyes. Silhouetted in the very dim lighting from outside of her cell was the figure of a man, dressed in long black robes and hooded. He didn't move for a moment.

She knew he must be human. She felt incredibly and surprisingly frightened. She had not seen a human being in years, and the thought seemed to frighten her more then being raped by strange monsters. Still gasping and choking for her much needed breath, she lifted herself from the floor feebly, shifting weight onto the leg that felt less painful, before collapsing against the wall in weakness. She held to the stone tightly, shaking all over and struggling to keep balance.

Then she heard something she had forgotten had existed, the sound of a human voice. Immediately after hearing it, she felt a strange feeling, as though she was experiencing the past. That voice was so familiar, though she had almost forgotten what words were.

"Granger, we need to move, let's go now!"

**A/N: Well. . . I think that's quite the chapter, what do you think? I have great confidence in this story, and I hope you all do too. Love story always revolve around tragedy... it's what makes them most worth while! If you like romance, and if you like D/H, you had better review and tell me what you think. . . so I can continue writing! **


	4. Wretched Girl

**A/N: I would just like to say thank you to all of you who have been reviewing, it thrills me to read them and you have no idea how much more satisfying it makes writing these fics feel. Please keep reviewing, because your opinion is very important to me! I LOVE YOU GUYS! **

**If you are taking the time to add me to your fav's, or alerts, why not review at the same time! –smile- **

**Chapter Four**

**Wretched Girl**

Draco cringed slightly at the sight of her leaning against the wall. If he had not known what cell block to find her in, he didn't think he would have recognized her. The very sight of her made him sick. Though, even deep down in his dark and untouchable soul, he felt pity. She squinted at him through the blackness, her eyes barely visible through a thick sheet of dried blood and dirt.

There she was, the great Hermione Granger, not so great now. This was the witch that so many people had made such a fuss about, 'the best witch of our time', they had called her. What Draco saw was nothing more then a helpless girl, lost and confused. He shuddered then, still waiting for her to respond to the sound of his voice. She did not move to follow him, he would have thought she would be ecstatic to get out of there.

Draco licked his lips nervously, glancing behind him to make sure that no one was coming. He looked back at her, her eyes dull and sunken. Her eyelids were drooping and her head was rested against the stone wall.

"Granger, you have to come quickly," He hissed, walking over to her, cringing as he took her around the arm. "We have to get moving right away, they can't know I was here."

Her eyes flickered open with a weak movement, and she stared at him for a moment. He wondered if she had lost her wits, or forgotten how to speak. He found this was the first time he had ever looked into her eyes without despise and jealousy. This time he was looking into her eyes out of compassion and pity.

He grabbed hold of her arm, attempting to pull her forward in the most careful, but assuring way possible. She did not move, she just stared at him, her eyes like empty pools, almost black they were so dark. Her pupils were dilated to the point where the brown was barely visible, from being trapped in the darkness for so long. He pulled at her arm once more, insisting that she follow.

Why did she not want to get out of there?

Then she opened her mouth slightly, as though she was going to speak. A soft noise seemed to pass through her lips, but no words escaped. He moved closer to her, trying to hear what it was she was trying to say. Her eyes shifted slightly, as they would if she were insane. He stiffened a little as she reached out a ghostly hand towards him, the tip of her finger touching his chest. Then, as if she had never been awake to begin with, her eyes were rolling back in her head, and she had fainted. Draco jumped forward bravely and caught her in his firm arms as she fell, supporting her head with an open palm and staring at her for a moment. He then reached his other arm underneath her, and hoisted her up into his hold.

He looked back once more nervously to make sure that no unwanted trespassers were coming around. Then Hermione is his arms, his mother's words on his mind, he stepped over the lifeless corpses of the creatures he had saved Granger from, and exited the doorway.

She felt far too light in him arms, and that made him nervous. If you had asked Draco Malfoy if he thought he would ever be concerned about Hermione Granger's safety, the answer would have been no. He had always despised the very being of Granger, and had always wished nothing less for her then what she had been given these last years. However, seeing her lying in his arms, pathetic and broken, made his heart quiver with a surprised longing to help her.

He shook his head in disgust as he walked.

Snap out of it Draco.

She stirred slightly in his arms, as he began down the hundreds of stairs. He was strong and firmly built in his older age, but she still began to grow heavy while descending further and further. She smelled horrid, but he ignored that fact. His brain swam, never ending with ideas of what he was to do. The trolls at the front gate would have to die, they had seen him there and the Dark Lord would hear about it. Draco had chosen not to kill them before, because he hadn't wanted to grab the attention of the other creatures in the castle.

Coming down another flight of stairs, he paused for a moment in an oh-so familiar doorway. He leaned back, Hermione remaining desperately unconscious in his arms, and peered into the old Transfiguration classroom. He felt overwhelmed with longing for the days when he marched throughout Hogwarts, every boy and girl any age stepping out of his way, Crabbe and Goyle by his side.

Draco gasped, almost dropping Hermione. He had completely forgotten, Crabbe and Goyle had planned on being at Malfoy Manor that evening, to give their condolences to his Mother's failing health. He wondered it they would still be attending, now that his mother was deceased. He lowered his eyebrows as he thought this to himself, and Hermione stirred softly in his arms. He looked down at her, innocent and near death.

He knew he had to get her out of there.

Then, forgetting of his thoughts of Transfiguration and expected companions, he took off swiftly once more, towards the large double-doors that held his freedom, from this now blood-stained and horrible place.

Then there came a sound from the corridor across the hall, and once more the flickering lights of torches could be seen, illuminating the stone around them. It was those patrolling imps, and this time, Draco had no where to hide.

They rounded the corner before Draco even had time to attempt to think of an action. They were caught up in a bustling chatter amongst one another. It wasn't until the one in the back saw Draco, and dropped his torch. They all stopped dead in their measly tracks, taken back by the sudden appearance of their third in command.

Draco stared at them for a moment, not knowing what to say or how to say it. There he was, the supposed heir to the Dark Lords throne, holding a mudblood close to his chest, and wearing a hooded black cloak. He moved to the side, placing Granger down on the floor, and readying himself for the fight. He knew he had no choice, they had seen what he was doing.

They snarled slightly, the front imp creature speaking in a high pitched, loud voice.

"Lord Malfoy, sire." It said, raising its torch higher as though double-checking that it was indeed Draco. "We were not informed of your visit, why are you taking away a prisoner?"

Draco felt his heart beginning to race, and his head spin.

Then, without so much as a word to them, he had reached for his wand and pulled it out.

"Avada Kadavera!"

The killing curse that consisted of those two terrible words, haunted him in his sleep. Though unforgivable, he was trained to use it at all costs, for it was fast. The Dark Lord has always said to him, 'Draco, if the person you wish to kill is hated, or just deserves to suffer, give them a Crucio first'. Draco had never used the Crucio curse, and he never would. With the Avada Kadavera, it was fast and utterly painless, that is why he chose that curse.

The creatures all lay dead on the floor now, and he plucked up Hermione without a word.

He descended the last of the marble staircase and snuck quietly across the tiled floor, now almost invisible under the bones and blood. He made sure to be cautious, and crouched down low, placing Granger down once more very gently in the darkness behind a broken statue. He then reached into his robes and removed his wand, creeping up behind the backs of the two massive trolls. They were quarrelling between one another like children, completely oblivious to his approaching.

He took a deep breath, raising his wand.

He hated to kill.

But he was just so good at it.

He closed his eyes tightly, as though showing remorse for his actions in which he was about to commence. Then, raising his wand he whispered ever so quietly, as though speaking to a lover, his full lips moving just barely.

"Avada Kadavera."

Before the creatures had even known what had hit them, they were down on the floor, a light green mist rising from their now dead bodies. Their tongues hung out in death, and their breath reeked of a mixture of dead fish and damp soil.

Draco gagged softly, as he walked back over to where Hermione lay, and scooped her up gently in his arms.

Who would guess that a Malfoy could be so gentle?

Then, from the corner of his eye he saw something. Granger's rags for clothing had slid down her wrist slightly, revealing an image he couldn't believe he was seeing with his silver eyes. He double took on the marking, and stared at it for a moment.

There was no way. But there it was clear as day, painted on her arm and snarling his way.

His head began to spin, and his mouth ran dry. His hands shook, as she stirred once more in his arms, her eyes opening slightly, revealing a soft brown that filled his head with confusion instantly. He swallowed aggressively, attempting to recollect his thoughts and process what had just happened.

Draco shifted uncomfortably, looking down into Granger's face once more.

Was he really one-hundred percent sure that this was the right girl?

Was this Granger?

She was so massacred he couldn't be sure it was her. She had the eyes, and the hair.

Yes, it was her.

He looked down at her wrist once more, and recoiled, his entire body stiffening and his heart beginning to race faster then it had in ages. He was confused and repulsed to the point of utter exhaustion.

Granger continued to look at him with her piercing stare, weak and helpless in his grasp. Looking back down at her, he suddenly felt nauseous from what he had just discovered. He put her down on the ground as fast as he possible could, without harming her in any way, and then vomited on the grass beside her. She forced herself up with her arms, watching him with that ever piercing stare.

What Draco had seen was the most unnatural, most unbelievable sight, and he couldn't bring his thick, arrogant, Malfoy head to believe it. So once again, he looked at her wrist, taking her arm in his hand and scanning it thoroughly. Yes, that was definitely what he thought it was.

The mark of the Death Eater.


	5. Waking Up

**Chapter Five**

**Waking Up**

Hermione Granger lay in his arms unconscious.

He tried to push the idea of the dark mark out of his mind, just for now.

He looked around desperately, trying to come up or comprehend some sort of a plan. He knew that, by luck and luck alone, his father was going away for two weeks on an assignment from the Dark Lord, and would not be there when he arrived. His real concern was what to do with her after, and how to keep her from Pansy, who prowled around the Manor as though it was her own home.

He knew she would come to greet him the second he stepped in the door, and his mind raced with ideas of how to overcome this obstacle. Then, an idea hit him like a ton of bricks, and he smirked his legendary smirk, pulling Granger tighter to his chest.

Then, without another word, he evaporated into nothing but air, and had left the once so beautiful grounds of Hogwarts. He landed on his front lawn, overlooking a wide sea of hedges and fountains, statues and rose bushes. A beautiful peacock was strutting feverishly, its colorful feathers fanned outwards.

Draco ducked down low to the grass, once more placing Hermione down softly on the grassy terrain. He looked around for any sign of a house-elf, but could not see a single one. He took a deep breath inwards, placing his fingertips to his lips and letting out a shrill whistle.

Pop.

Draco jumped, as one of the house-elves appeared in front of him almost instantly, bowing low to the ground until its massive ears touched the grass. Draco nodded in respect, and glanced once more back up at the Manor. He had never entirely agreed to be so polite to house-elves, but his mother had always insisted.

"Yes, sire?" The creature squeaked, his round orbs for eyes scanning over Hermione's body, still and silent.

"I must ask of you to do me a large favor, Greep." Said Draco, addressing the creature by its name only because his mother so often had. "Tell me, is my father gone on his assignment?"

"Yes sire, Lucius left just minutes ago, Greep helped him with his luggage."

"Good, good." Draco replied. "I need you to round up as many elves as you can, and take this girl to my room. Make sure she is comfortable, and tend to her wounds as soon as possible. Wash her and clean her, do everything in your power to make her appear human again. I am going to go into the house and try to distract Pansy while you do this."

The creature bowed low once more.

Draco turned and began up the hill towards the Manor.

"Oh, and Greep." He said, turning to look at the house elf. "You must let the others know, not to speak to my father about this, and that is an order."

The creature bowed for a third time, and Draco turned to enter the dark palace he knew as home.

Pansy, the vulture that she was, was sitting at the table in the entrance hall, as though waiting for him to return. She raced over to him when he did, pulling him into a weak embrace. He returned the hold, though not out of enjoyment. He cringed slightly as he did this. The smell of vanilla and lavender wafted into his nostrils, making his head ache and his nose tingle.

"Where have you been Drakie?" She asked, in her baby-tone manner which he hated so. "I've been here waiting for you, wishing you were here."

He found himself raising his eyebrows at these words.

"Pansy, it is not your place to wish I was home." He snarled, though moments later realizing and remembering the task in which he had set out to do. He stared out the open door of the Manor, and saw the house elves, carrying Hermione towards the entrance.

He took a deep breath, reaching out hesitantly and taking Pansy by the cold hand.

She smiled at this, a devilish smile.

"Why don't you touch me the way that you used to, Draco?" She asked softly, placing her hand on his face, making him shiver violently. "Remember, back in school when we used to sneak off at night and shag until we ached."

"Pansy, I slept with half the women at Hogwarts, what makes you think you're so special?"

Damn.

Fucking suck it up Malfoy, you are supposed to be distracting her.

Pansy looked very hurt from these words, and she wretched her hand away.

Draco looked around nervously, trying to think of a plan.

Out of desperation, he moved closer to her, placing both of his hands on her face, staring her dead in her sapphire blue eyes. Her eyes really were beautiful. So, with just the thoughts of her eyes, and Hermione's safety, he pulled Pansy into a kiss.

He made sure to make it soft and sweet, to lure her in.

Pansy moaned loudly against his lips, touching her tongue to his and gripping his shoulders with her fingernails.

Then he pulled away, resisting the temptation to cringe towards her.

He took her hand once more.

"Follow me, I will show you a good time."

She grinned maliciously, following him like a lost puppy, into the living room. Before he could even close the massive double glass doors, she had lunged herself at him, and thrown him to the couch.

He was taken back by this, and threw his hands up in their air as though a gun had been pointed at his nose. She was panting like a sick dog, and smothering him in wet kisses. He snapped out of his state of shock, and went along with it, running his hands down her back, and placing them on her boney hips.

She moaned.

"Oh, Draco, you get me going like there's no tomorrow." She forced her lips onto his hard, her tongue pushing between his lips roughly.

He hadn't even done anything yet and she was already drooling like a mutt. He forced himself to kiss her back, groin pushed between her legs as he rubbed against her body softy.

She pulled away from him, smirking. He took the chance to flip her over, and began to pull off her clothing forcefully. She giggled as he did so, reaching down and undoing the buttons of his robes, revealing his chest. She looked at it, her eyes wide and her mouth open, as though she had never seen it before.

He laughed at this.

He laughed at how irresistible girls found him.

Then, without another word, he had ripped up her skirt, and had propped himself over her, bare skin against hers. Her eyes fell closed at this feeling, and he could feel between her legs pulsating hungrily. He found himself slightly aroused now, even if it was Pansy. He had not felt a woman's touch in months.

Then without so much as a word, he had thrust into her hard, and she yelped in pain. He continued, going hard and causing the couch where they sat to slide along the floor. She threw her long legs up and around his waist, squealing in pleasure and grasping his shoulder blades.

"Oh, fuck Draco!" She screamed, so loud he cringed. "Oh, don't stop!"

--

Draco dusted his robes thoroughly as he exited the sitting room minutes later, fully clothed and sick feeling. He did not say another word to Pansy, cold and cruel he walked and shut the door, heading up the giant staircase and into his bedroom.

The moment he entered, he gasped.

Hermione lay on his bed, eyes closed. Her washed and tamed hair lay at her shoulders and against the pillow in long brown wisps, falling over her pale complexion. Her face was now free of cuts or bruises, and her fingernails were healed. She was clothed in some of his mothers old night wears. He found himself getting lost watching her there, her chest caving in and out softly, her breath quiet and steady.

He thought she looked beautiful.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his trance, nearly slapping himself for being such a prat.

He could not believe those thoughts had just passed through his head.

He stepped over to where she was, and sat down on the bed next to her, watching her sleep. He wanted nothing more then for her to wake up, and help him with the potion so he could get this over and done with, and then return her back to that ruddy prison. He cringed at the thought of sending her back there. Even he, who was cold and vicious, didn't think he had the guts to send her back there.

She stirred slightly, her eye lids flickering, moaning as though she was in pain. He looked around the room nervously; the house elves were gone now.

He wondered how much she had been eating.

He assumed very little.

He would have never thought he'd see the day that the mudblood would be sleeping in his bed. Yet, there she was, and she didn't look half bad.

Draco snorted.

Too bad she wasn't pure-blood.

Suddenly, she stirred violently, her legs kicking outward. Draco stood fast, looking at her, not knowing what to do.

Her eyes opened like switches, and she stared at him.

He stared back.

Then she blinked as though in pain, and covered her eyes with her hands. He realized that the light was probably hurting her, since she had been in utter darkness for three years. He reached over and flicked off the light.

She removed her hands very slowly, and stared at him once more through the dim light from only the candles.

He wondered if she remembered who he was.

Then she spoke.

"W-where," She paused, as though speaking was something strange to her. "Where am I?"

"You are at Malfoy Manor, in my bed, actually." He said, forcing a smile, trying his best not to be cold. She had been through a lot, and though he didn't much care for her, he couldn't bring himself to be cruel.

She looked around nervously, like a child would, and forced herself to sit up.

She cringed with pain.

Draco went to reach for her, to help her, then stopped himself.

"Where's Ron?" She asked.

Draco felt angry. He despised the fact that the first thing she asked, was where that sniveling Weasley was.

"Dead." He said coldly. He thought afterwards he had been a little too abrupt.

She looked at him, her eyes weak and her face plain. Though, she did not react the way he had thought she would have.

"You're safe now." Draco said to her.

She whimpered softly, throwing her hands over her shoulders and rubbing them as though she was very cold. Then, she turned to him, no expression in her face.

She asked him the one question he knew she was going to address.

"Why?"

He blinked, perplexed, shifting slightly. He felt very uncomfortable.

"I need you Granger, enough said. Get some rest."

He went to stand, but she clung to him with her hand. He stopped, sitting back down again, yanking his arm away.

"Don't touch me, mudblood." He hissed, his natural anger coming forth. She did not cringe the way she once had when he called her this. Her hands shook, as she leaned back against his pillows.

He wanted more then anything to ask her of that marking on her wrist.

**A/N: Hey guys, I am leaving it here for tonight, but more updates will follow. Some people are telling me that the site is not letting them review. I don't know why this would be, but hopefully you can review! –crosses fingers-**


	6. Pansy's Grudge

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys I appreciate them, that's why didn't wait longer to update!**

**Chapter Six**

**Pansy's Grudge**

Hermione lay there that evening, staring into the cold silver eyes of someone she hardly recognized. Being kept in that dark dungeon for so long, she tried to even remember his name, and she couldn't.

Though the elves had healed her wounds, she ached. Hearing those words uttered from that blonde boy's mouth, had made her feel as if there was nothing left to live for.

She remembered hearing the screams coming from Ron's cell next to her, ear splitting and painful.

She remembered the day the screams stopped, even though at the time, she could not bring herself to believe that Ron was dead.

They were going to be happy together, her and Ron, before all of this chaos broke out.

She reached up and rubbed her forehead gently, as her head throbbed in pain.

The blonde boy was still watching her, sitting on the edge of her bed. He gave her an odd sort of grimace, triggering her memory.

"Malfoy." She whispered under her breath, sitting up suddenly and backing herself up against the bed frame.

That was when memories began flashing back to her suddenly.

"_You have no say in anything. Keep your mouth shut, you filthy little mudblood."_

"_What are you looking at Granger?"_

She suddenly found herself glaring at him.

"What do you want with me, Malfoy?" She hissed coldly.

He looked taken back by these words.

"What?" He spat, rolling his eyes at her, jolting more of her memories. "No 'thank you Draco'? Not even a slight show of appreciation for rescuing you?"

"You and I both know perfectly well that there must be a very good explanation for you rescuing me." She droned, still staring at him with that never-ending Granger glare.

He cleared his throat and snorted, adjusting his collar slightly around his neck. She looked over his clothing, it was a wealthy mans clothing.

"Be quiet Granger." He moaned. "How about a small hint of appreciation? If I hadn't showed up when I did those creatures would have had you-"

"Those creatures," She said, cutting him off. This made him angry. "Had me every single night for three years, so it's a great pity you didn't need me earlier, you could have stopped it."

He looked down, not saying a word.

"In fact, aren't you, third in command to the Dark Lord?" She continued. "Or has that changed since I was locked up in that tower?"

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck in distaste.

"So, being third in command, couldn't you have saved me a long time ago?"

"Why would I do that?!" He spat angrily.

"You did it now, why?"

"Be quiet Granger." He stated, removing his cloak and resting it on the bed. "Maybe, I just had a change of heart. Besides, no matter what place in command you are for the Dark Lord, it is still his word over yours, and you and I both know how much he despises you."

"So why did he let me out now?"

"Would I have killed those creatures raping you if he had given me permission?!" He snapped, his eyes wild with rage.

She felt frightened.

"Come on Granger, use your muggle head. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

"It's a little hard to function when you've been locked away and tortured for three years." She said, feeling angry at him for his lack of sympathy. "I don't even know what is going on in the world outside of Hogwarts anymore."

Draco took a deep breath, running his pale fingers through his hair.

He had changed a lot since the last time she had seen him. He was taller and stronger, and more matured.

"He has taken over everything." Draco sad, Hermione swore she could hear sadness in his voice. "Every town, every city, every god damn town even off the bloody map, even places in Northern Yukon, have been overrun with his servants and dark creatures."

Hermione felt herself raising her eyebrows at him.

"The Yukon?" She drawled, rolling her eyes and giggling. "I'm surprised you even know where that is, Malfoy. You've grown smatter in your age-"

"Of course I know where the god damn Yukon is, Granger!" He snapped, his face curling into a scowl. "It's in fucking Canada, what do I look like, a squib?!"

She giggled harder now, realizing it was the first time she had in a very very long time.

He let out an angry groan, collapsing onto his back next to her and staring blankly up at the roof of his four poster bed.

"What does your father have to say about all of this?" Hermione asked softly.

"He doesn't know."

Hermione felt very confused, she didn't understand what she was doing here. She looked at him, and realized he was looking at her. His cold eyes scanned over her face, and she thought he looked much more hansom then in school.

She lowered her eyebrows at him, turning away in realization of her thoughts.

"Well, what do you want with me, Malfoy?" She said. "I'm sure that there must be a reason that I'm here, I know you wouldn't just rescue me out of the kindness of your heart."

He continued looking at her, then took a deep breath.

"It was my mother's idea, not mine." He snapped.

"She wants me here?"

"She died."

Hermione looked away from him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh."

"She want's me to resurrect Harry Potter." Draco droned, sighing in frustration and rolling his eyes. "Of course, I don't understand what on earth could be so great about Potter, but she wants me to bring him back."

Hermione stared blankly at him, unsure of what she had just heard.

Harry was a name that had not crossed her mind in years.

"Harry?"

"YES!" Draco roared. "HARRY FUCKING POTTER! The good for nothing prat who hid behind all of his friends, etcetera."

Hermione jumped as he shouted.

"He didn't hide behind all of his friends, Malfoy." She said sternly. "Besides, you just never liked Harry because he always got more attention then you at school, and you were a spoiled brat."

"Spoiled!?" Draco snapped, sitting up and staring at her. She found herself cowering. "You think that I'm spoiled? Do you think that the life I live is a bloody cake-walk Granger? Do you think that doing jobs for the Dark Lord and killing people is all just fun and games? Do you think that going to sleep every night is easy knowing I've killed people?"

She opened her mouth to protest, though no words could be bound together to form a sentence.

She suddenly felt very sorry for him.

"You don't have a clue what's it's like." He said, his voice softening, as he saw the fear in her eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop beside them, making them both jump. Draco spun around and looked at the house elf.

"What is it Greep?" He muttered, angry and flustered.

The creature bowed.

"Sire, there are two guests here to see you, and Ms. Parkison is with them as we speak."

Draco nodded, standing without a word.

Hermione thought of the name she had just heard, it sounded very familiar, though she couldn't quite put a face with it.

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Shit." Draco whispered, running his hand through his hair.

He looked frightened.

Then the door opened, and a girl with long raven hair entered the room in a fluster.

"Draco!" She squealed. "Crabbe and Goyle are here, and they are raiding the kitchen and making a massive mess! I can't stand them any. . ."

She trailed off suddenly, her face dropping from the flare of frustration it had had moments ago. She looked from Draco and then to Hermione in confusion.

"What the hell? Draco! WHAT ARE YOU-"

Draco jumped forward, clamping his hand to her mouth.

"Shhhhh." He said to her.

She yanked his hand away, black hair falling over her eyes.

Hermione recognized the girl suddenly, as her eyes flashed to Draco in disgust. Then she looked at Hermione, in that same manner of disrespect she had at Hogwarts years ago, as if Hermione was something on the floor to avoid stepping on.

"Pansy, please." Draco pleaded with her gently, taking his hand and placing it on her face. The girl was in an utter uproar.

"You STOLE Granger from the Dark Tower?!" She hissed. "Are you INSANE!?"

"Please Pansy, if you care about me, you won't say a word."

She looked at him, mouth open.

"You did this against the wishes of the Dark Lord?" She whispered. "Oh, you are so much trouble Draco."

"Not, if he doesn't know." Draco said to her, placing both hands onto her face and looking at her. "And you can keep a secret, can't you Pansy?"

He gave her a soft smile. Hermione laughed softly under her breath, watching as he manipulated her.

"Can you stay with her while I go down to Crabbe and Goyle?" He asked her, very kindly. "I promise I won't be long. She just needs to be watched for awhile, she has only just been healed and is very weak."

Pansy opened her mouth to protest, but Draco stopped her by kissing her. Then he pulled away, and it looked as though she was weak.

"Thanks." He said, turning and leaving the room without a word. "I will explain after."

"Draco, wait!" She said, but the door had already closed.

Hermione took a nervous swallow as Pansy turned to look at her.

She didn't like this plan.

"Well. . . Granger, long time no see." She whispered, glaring at her with hatred. "I would ask what reason you have for being in my fiancé's bed, but obviously it isn't for anything, grotesque."

She stuck her nose in the air, walking a little closer.

Fiancé? This made Hermione feel even sorrier for Draco then she had before.

Hermione frowned in her direction.

"You look like absolute hell Granger." Pansy continued, smirking devilishly. "Terrible there, was it?"

Hermione didn't say anything, she just watched as the girl came closer and closer. She shuddered a little at the mention of that horrid place.

Pansy giggled, shrill and cruel.

"I should kill you right now." She said, her face suddenly dropping into an evil stare. "Now, tell me what you are doing here, Granger."

"I don't know." Hermione croaked hoarsely, her voice still rusty. "Malfoy didn't tell me."

Pansy raised her eyebrows, reaching to hers side and grasping her wand gently. Hermione looked from the wand and back to Pansy, frightened that this might be the end of her life.

_What does it matter? Ron is dead. Kill me then, you lousy whore._

"How did he rescue you from there, anyway?" Pansy asked her, still clutching her wand. "Tell me."

"Broke inside, I believe."

"What the hell is that!?" Pansy shrieked, pointing towards Hermione's wrist.

Hermione looked down to her wrist, seeing the mark of the Death Eater staring back at her.

"Erm, nothing." She said, covering it with the sleeve of the shirt she was dressed in. She guessed that it must be Malfoy's shirt.

Pansy rushed forwards, taking Hermione's wrist violently, and taking another look.

Hermione yanked her arm away.

"Hermione Granger, a Death Eater?!" Pansy snapped, looking frustrated and furious. "Is this some sort of a joke?!"

Hermione didn't say anything, she just looked away.

Then she saw Pansy grab hold of her wand once more, and point it swiftly between her eyes.

"I never heard anything about you being crowned a Death Eater." She hissed. "Tell me why that marking is on your wrist, or I swear I will hurt you, mudblood."

Hermione just stared into the girls icy blue eyes, but did not say a word.

"TELL ME GRANGER!"

Silence.

"Stupify!"

**A/N: Hey guys thanks for reading, hope you liked it. just thought I'd say I appreciate the reviews, I got some good ones so I decided to update right away. Keep them coming!**


	7. Stressing the Facts

**A/N: Thank you very much all of you for reviewing I really really enjoyed reading all of them! I am glad you are enjoying this fic, I am too! There's your incentive for knowing I am going to keep updating. I am currently working on 4 fics, but I think this one is my favorite. For those of you who really enjoyed Emerald Fire, I have another fic on the go called Silver Knight, and it is a little bit similar, it even has some of the same scenes as Emerald Fire, so just a little heads up to that. **

**I would also like to respond to a few reviews that really caught my attention:**

**Ceylon- You suggested that Pansy should die, and I am very much thinking about it. You will find out the outcome in later chapters! Thank you for the review.**

**Goddess1408****- Thank you so much for that compliment, it makes me very happy to hear that you are enjoying my story so much! I would love for you to keep supporting my writing.**

**Guppy Grapes- Thanks for all of the reviews, you are amazing -**

**--**

**This chapter is dedicated to AithneGoddess, for all the support when I came back from about a year off of fanfiction.**

**--**

**Chapter Seven **

**Stressing the Facts**

Then she saw Pansy grab hold of her wand once more, and point it swiftly between her eyes.

"I never heard anything about you being crowned a Death Eater." She hissed. "Tell me why that marking is on your wrist, or I swear I will hurt you, mudblood."

Hermione just stared into the girls icy blue eyes, but did not say a word.

"TELL ME GRANGER!"

Silence.

"Stupify!"

Hermione felt her heart skip as the room filled with a terrible and blinding light. She knew that if the curse were to hit her, she would be defenseless and unable to protect herself in any way at all.

How could Malfoy be so foolish, leaving her in the same room as the bitter jealous little witch who had always despised her so?

Face covered, Hermione waited for the impact. There was a crashing sound and a terrible wail, and she realized that the curse had not been directed towards her. She looked up from her arms, trembling. Pansy was laying on the floor, crying in agony, her wand lay feet away on the emerald carpeted floor.

Draco was standing over top of her, wand pointed and ready to send another curse her way. He looked frighteningly aggressive. Hermione took a deep breath of relief, and wiped down her brown with her hand, which was covered in calluses from her capture in the tower. She looked from Draco and then to Pansy, who was still rolling on the floor in dramatic agony.

"What the hell Draco!?" She spat up at him, her eyes flashing with an overpowering malice. Draco pulled his wand away from her, and placed it back in his pocket. He did not say anything to her as he made his way over to where she was collapsed in a pathetic heap, and hoisted her up slowly. She stood, glaring at him, then smacked him hard.

Hermione covered her face once more, not wanting to see the outcome of this pureblood argument.

"What did I say?" Draco hissed, grabbing hold of both of Pansy's shoulders and squeezing them roughly. She whimpered softly, looking way from his cruel eyes and towards the fire, which crackled merrily beside them. When she chose not to respond, he shook her violently.

"WHAT DID I SAY!?" He stared at her, his eyes piercing her, cruel and mean. Hermione felt shivers when she saw this.

Pansy gave a soft sniff, finally grabbing the courage to look him in the eyes, like a puppy that had just made a mess all over the living room carpet.

"To k-keep an eye on Granger." She sobbed, her face now covered in small streams. Hermione almost felt sorry for the girl, Malfoy was frightening when he was angry. He took a deep breath, settling a little and releasing her arms. She stepped back, massaging them with her hands. She just continued sobbing, not speaking.

"Pansy, this is my house!" He snapped at her, making her cringe. "This is my house while my father is away and you are my guest! I suggest you start acting like one!"

She nodded very swiftly, eyes staring towards the ground, never meeting his own. His eyes thinned at her, as he stepped towards her and made her look at him with his hands on her face.

"Never, go against my word again." He said coolly, try to speak more calm now. "Not in this house."

The girls long black hair was falling over her face and eyes, and she was shaking violently in Draco's hands. She was pale and lonely looking. Pathetic really.

"Do I make myself very clear?" He asked her, yanking her chin up so she would look at him.

She nodded once more, still not saying a word. He released her, and she fell back into a chair, resting her head in her hands and wailing into them as though she had just lost a child. Draco sighed, turning towards Hermione, who felt a little frightened when he did. If he could do something so cruel to his fiancé, it made her wonder what he could do to her.

"Are you alright Granger?" He asked her flatly, as though this was high school and he was forced to ask the question in class.

She nodded softly, as he turned back to Pansy once more.

"Leave now." He said to the girl, taking her by the hand and hoisting her to her feet. "Before I decide to _make_ you leave instead. Granger is very important to me right now, I need her."

"What on earth could be so god damn important?" Pansy hissed, now looking him dead in the eye. "What would your father say if he knew you were harboring a mudblood in the Manor, let alone in your very own bed? What is she here for Draco, tell me-"

"Why the mudblood is here is none of your fucking business!" He roared, making her step backwards into the wall, cowering from him. "NOW GET OUT!"

She didn't say another word, and like a bolt of lightning, she was gone down the hall way and out of sight. Hermione felt her body relaxing slightly as the girl left, though she still felt overcome with the instinct to stay alert. This was Malfoy after all, and he always had nasty tricks up his sleeve. He turned back to her, walking over to where she was and thudding himself down on the end of the bed. She watched him silently, almost afraid to speak. It was him that broke the silence.

"Don't think just because I defended you back there, that I like you in the slightest Granger." He droned, staring blankly up towards the roof of his four-poster bed. "Because I don't. If it weren't for my mother telling me to find you in her dying breaths, I would not have even thought twice about leaving you to rot forever in that tower. I despise you and I always will, remember that."

"Pfft." She said, rolling her eyes. The old Hermione Granger was beginning to wake up from hibernation. "You really think I would give a damn whether you are fond of me in the slightest? Malfoy, do us all a favor and stop flattering yourself. You haven't changed a bit."

"You really should show me some respect mudblood." He said to her, his eyes now darting into her and burning her insides. "If I had not come, you would still be up there."

"Well, it isn't as though I have anything to live for anyway." She stated, glaring at him angrily. "Besides, you didn't do it for me, you did it for you. Honestly, I would rather be back there rotting, I deserve an equal fate to the one Ron received, and no less. I deserve to die there just as he did. "

"As much as I loathe saying this, you are far better then Weasley." Draco replied, rolling over onto his side. "He was weak, insecure, and a coward. You at least have the honor and pride to defend yourself and fight. If you didn't have the instinct to fight, you would have been dead a long time ago. So don't tell me you would go back _there_ Granger, because I know it isn't the case-"

"No?" Hermione snapped, making him look at her with anger in those Malfoy eyes. "Are you sure, because _there_ is starting to seem a lot better then _here_ right now. I would rather die in the hands of Voldemort, then by your silly little girlfriend's. At least dying in the cell would have honor to it, rather then being killed by a spoiled jealous little witch who calls herself a pureblood!"

Draco put his hand out to silence her.

"Firstly." He said, almost too calmly for her comfort. "Pansy, is not my girlfriend. Secondly, what on earth is so fucking honorable about dying in a prison cell? Granger, you haven't even heard the entire of why I brought you back yet!"

Hermione crossed her arms, lowering her eyebrows towards him.

"To resurrect Harry." She said coldly, glaring towards him. "How do I know that this isn't just some sort of a plot from the Dark Lord, to resurrect Harry so he can steal away the power Harry possesses. Do you think me foolish, that I do not know of how Voldemort craves to have Harry's powers?"

Draco snorted.

"The Dark Lord is long passed that stage." He replied to her, glaring right back at her and giving her chills. She looked him over, dressed in his collared white shirt and tie, as though going to an expensive party. "He has grown much more powerful, and nothing slips by him. I will be lucky if he doesn't figure out that it was me who broke into Hogwarts."

Hermione stared at him, questions flooding through her like a rush of heavy water.

"I was at Hogwarts?"

Draco blinked at her stupidly, as though completely taken back by what he had just heard. Hermione felt her heart sink, and her face drop, staring at her hands.

"I didn't know that's where I was." She said at a whisper, her hands shaking. "All must really be lost, if Hogwarts has been overrun. There is no hope then, why even attempt to go through with this?"

"Are you joking me?" He asked her, eyes wide and his face suddenly perplexed with utter confusion. "Did you actually just say that? Granger, giving up on saving the world and the legendary Harry Potter? Pfft! That prison cell has turned you into a coward, and a failure."

Hermione opened her mouth in protest.

"How dare you, you little worm!" She hissed angrily. "You have no idea what it's like up there. You think just because you had a difficult upbringing, that mommy and daddy didn't love you, that you have an excuse to put down everyone else! You are a vial creature, and I refuse to help you!"

His eyes flashed with malice, and she once more felt frightened.

"Fine Granger, we will just send you back where you came from."

She felt a wave of panic as he stood and grabbed her by the wrist, ripping her forwards towards the fireplace and pushing her against its now roaring flames. She struggled, trying to get away from his grasp. She thought of those creatures, more and more of them just waiting to have their fill of her when she got back, and it made her eyes water.

"Go on then, mudblood, jump in the fireplace!" He roared, giving her another push. She clung to him, nearly slipping to the floor. "This floo powder will take you right back into the entrance hall of Hogwarts, go now, it's what you wanted isn't it?"

She felt her eyes watering furiously at the though of going back, and realized she regretted telling him that was what she would rather. She turned in his arms and stared into his silvery blue eyes, which were thinned and cruel in appearance.

"Please, don't make me go back." She said to him, sniffing softly. "I will help you alright, I will help you. Just don't make me go back there, please."

**A/N: Thanks very much you guys. Sorry this chapter is short, I'm at college right now and I'm kinda just typing this between classes. . . lol just cause I love you so much. The cliffhanger wasn't really deliberate, I just have to get to taking notes now. Love you all!**


	8. Death by Draco

**A/N: I don't know how to tell you all how happy I am that you are enjoying this fic. I just wasn't sure because the romance part is moving quite slowly, but I think people know it will be worth it in the end. The only reason I am taking it so slow is because, well I said it before. . . Draco and Hermione is a farfetched idea, and to make it seem realistic I can't very well just put them on top of each other instantly. I am glad you all understand this! People want to read something that they can actually see happening, if these characters really existed I mean, and well some stories are just ridiculously out of character, kind of like my story Silver knight, but again, I am trying different approaches. **

**Review Responses**

**Gravity01- I don't want to spoil anything for you, but I have a reason for keeping Pansy alive! Thank you for the review. **

**Dadaismo- Holy cow so I visited that site, and the rules are just insane! I think I will try posting on that site soon, but right now I have too much on the go. . . thank you for filling me on the site though it's great!**

**Chapter Eight **

**Death by Draco**

As Draco released her from his cold grasp, she tumbled uncontrollably, supporting herself against the hearth of the fireplace in weak attempts. It was going to take some time for her strength to come back to her, and she very well couldn't just start working on some devious plot just then.

She thought of Ron suddenly, his bright blue eyes looking over her and his dazzling smile brightening her. What would he say if he knew she was surrendering herself to the wishes of Draco Malfoy? She felt very feeble suddenly, over the fact that she had just chosen to stay in the protection of the most feared manor in all of Brittain.

Then she thought of Harry, his kind smile and his ambitions. She remembered the day he died, the entire world seemed to come to a stand still. She remembered the looks on everyone's faces when his limp body hit the grass outside of the front steps of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She shuddered, still clinging to the mantle of the fireplace.

Malfoy moved towards her, stretching out his hand for her to take with her own. She glared down at it, limping her way back over towards the bed without his aide.

"I don't need your help Malfoy." She hissed, collapsing down and burying her head in the lusciously soft pillow. She had forgotten what a pillow felt like.

She could feel his icy eyes burning a hole in the back of her head, and she rolled over to meet them. Staring into them for more then a second drew chills up her back. She had never spoken to him for such a long period of time, let alone in an allied partnership.

"Right." He said coldly, arms crossed as he watched her struggle to sit up. "You think about what you just said every time you worship the fresh air you are now breathing and the food you are eating."

She sighed angrily.

"Just, tell me what this plan is." She snapped, pushing her brown locks behind one of her ears and looking up towards him with a curiosity and frustration.

"See, that's where you come in Granger, because I don't really have much of a plan."

She watched him carefully as he removed a small piece of parchment from his robe pocket, and handed it to her smugly. She took it, shivering as of the fact that he was still looking at her eyes, making her feel overwhelmed with a nervous feeling.

_**Draco, I have found something that may give all of mankind, wizards and muggles alike, a second chance at freedom. I have been using the house elves to explore and spy on everything going on in this manor. There is a plot. This is something I thought you might find useful.**_

_**Mother.**_

"Well," Hermione muttered coyly, still staring down at the page. "It seems your mother wasn't quite the terrible cow she led everyone to believe."

"My mother was never anything, but a sophisticated and elegant woman." Draco spat harshly, making her look up from the page. He looked furious. "Just because you think you have my whole life's story calculated in you fat muggle head, doesn't make your accusations the truth. People only ever assume what they want to, and never have the facts straight."

Hermione stared at him blankly.

"You're mother, so happened to serve on the opposite side of the war from me." She said, flipping the page over and reading the remainder of the print. "So, what would you expect me to assume?"

"I would expect you to understand that the Dark Lord has many tricks up his sleeves." He replied, his face twisted into that same scowl he had given her since she was eleven years old. "Why is it you think she died Granger? Think hard, because it wasn't as if she was old or unhealthy, at least until he cursed her that is."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at a loss for words.

"You don't even know what it was like for me, in the sixth year." He continued, still staring at her maliciously. "Do you really think I would have had the guts or the heart to lead up to the death of Albus Dumbledore, if he did not have something driving me to do so?"

She felt it was better to not say anything now. She suddenly felt very sorry for him, as she rung the parchment in her hands.

He seemed to swallow rather loudly, as he glanced down at the writing.

"Did you read it?" He asked her, his voice softer now then it had been before.

"Yes, Manifest 456."

"What does it mean?"

She glanced down at the ink once more, her head pounding and her brain still ticking in survival mode.

"I think that it must be a book, and a page number." She said softly, feeling incredibly cruel for what she had said to him. He took the page from her and looked over it once more, as though thinking the idea through in his head.

As she shifted in the sheets, she saw his eyes fall onto the marking on her wrist. She covered it, looking back up at him, wondering if he had seen it. He didn't seem to have noticed. She was relieved.

"I wonder if there is a book called Manifest in the Malfoy Library." He said calmly, his silver eyes scanning over the page. "I should go have a look, why don't you take time to look over this potion recipe."

He handed it back to her and turned toward the door. She watched as he stopped suddenly, his back to her. He seemed to be cringing, as he raised his wrist up to his face. The marking on his wrist had begun to hiss loud enough so even she could hear from the far side of the bedroom.

Draco turned to her, placing his finger over his lips telling her not to speak. She obeyed, watching carefully.

Then a voice rang out and reached her ears.

"Draco, I require your assistance with the rebels."

The voice was a low and evil hiss, and Hermione recognized it right away. It was Voldemort. Her mind rushed at what he had said. Rebels? There were still some people alive and ready to fight him, this idea made her grin. Draco turned and looked at her, a very faint fear flashing in his eyes.

"Yes my lord." He said quietly, still looking at Hermione. She knew he would have to go now. He took a step backwards, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. A moment or so passed, then he vanished on the spot, leaving behind only a soft cloud of smoke.

She looked around desperately, the thought of escaping the manor instantly hitting her mind once she was left alone. She pulled herself up from the bed sheets with full blown efforts, and hobbled her way over to the bedroom door. She reached for the oak handle and turned it very quietly, sneaking her way out and down the glorious hallway. Emerald carpeting covered the slightly visible hardwood floor. Torches held by the mouths of iron serpents scattered across the elegantly papered walls, and large chandeliers of crystal hung from the ceiling. She felt as though she should be in a princess story.

Having not a clue which way the exit was, she took the way that looked most promising. Her feet made hardly a sound on the lush carpet, as she snuck along, reaching a very tall and detailed banister, which twirled down into a vast entrance hall. She stopped suddenly, hearing voices. They were faint, but she could hear what they were saying.

"There is no way Draco would be plotting anything." Came a low growl of a voice that Hermione recognized from long ago. She could not put a face to the voice.

"Yeah, Pansy, you really need to get a hold of yourself, listen to what you are saying."

"I'm telling you, it's the truth!" Pansy squealed, and Hermione thought she heard a sound as though the girl had stomped her foot. "She's upstairs in his bed right now, you can go see for yourself!"

"Like hell I'm going up there. Do you know how angry he get's when we bother him while he's taking advantage of his _alone time_?"

"Besides, even if he did have that mudblood here, there must be a good reason for it. Parkinson, you are way over reacting, as usual."

"NO! Have you not noticed the way he's been acting lately? There is something up and I am going to find out what it is."

Hermione pressed her ear against the railing, trying with all of her best efforts to listen to what they were saying. It had only been a few minutes and Pansy had already run and told someone, two people for that matter. She assumed that it must have been Crabbe and Goyle.

She slinked her foot down onto the first of the many stairs descending into the entrance hall. She cringed as the floor boards creaked underneath her weight. She stopped for a moment, making sure that she had not attracted any nasty visitors. She couldn't hear anything, except the three arguing, so she continued down the stairs until she had reached the bottom. She felt weak and tired, and wasn't sure she could go much further.

Suddenly, footsteps filled her ears, and they sounded as though they were getting closer.

Hermione looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, but there was no where. She heard the footsteps coming closer and closer, and made a bolt back up the steps and into the hallway where she had just emerged. She ducked down as the three Death Eaters walked by the foot of the stairs bickering like school children. She let out a sigh of relief, thinking maybe it was better to just go back to Malfoy's room.

She was too weak to escape now, but she would. She would escape and resurrect Harry without Malfoy's help. That was of course if she could remember how to brew a potion.

If only she had her wand.

Draco stood in the center of a very large hall, dark and foreboding. He knelt the moment he had appeared in front of the large throne, and bowed his blonde head down to his knee. He shivered slightly as a massive serpent hissed and coiled hear his feet, the last of Voldemort's horcruxes.

He heard the Dark Lord hiss something, and the creature slithered towards the thrown, coiling itself around the wooden legs and staring at Draco with beady eyes. Draco raised his head, looking towards where his master sat, though he could not see his face.

"Draco, I have a task for you." He said, stroking the snakes massive head with long white fingers. "I have recently received word from the slave pens, that the Granger girl has escaped. I know that she could not have possibly done so on her own, and I find myself wondering how whoever retrieved her knew exactly what cell to break into and where the cell was located. Do you have any thoughts?"

Draco bowed his head once more, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking violently.

"No, my Great Lord." He said quietly, firmly pressing his palms to the cold floor to keep them from shaking any more then they already were.

"I would assume, to the best of my knowledge, that it would be you, Draco."

Draco looked up into the blackness in fear, though trying to hide it.

"That is why I am assigning you with this task, Draco." Voldemort continued, still stroking the snakes head. "I must know if your loyalty is sincere. I have a rebel here, captured in the Dark Forest last night, and I believe her to be one of your old Hogwart's companions. I wish for you to kill her, and do it swiftly. This will prove to me whether you are planning something against me."

Draco nodded softly.

He had killed so many times before, but it had never been someone he had known well enough for it to haunt him terribly. He shook violently as two of the same dark creatures who had been raping Granger marched out into the open, and threw down a dark figure nastily. The girl sobbed, her hands and feet bound.

Draco rose from where he knelt and watched her as she struggled to break free. He felt his heart flicker and his pulse quicken as she looked up at him.

It was Cho Chang. He remember her well. She was scraped and bruised, her hair tossed every which way and her sobs loud. He reached for his wand, his eyes beginning to water.

If he didn't kill her, the Dark Lord would know, and there would never be any chance of bringing back Potter. Though, if he killed her he would forever feel guilty. As her brown eyes watched him from the floor, he felt for the first time that he was the most cowardly person to walk the earth.

"Please." She wailed, covering her face with her hands.

Kill one, save the world.

He took a deep breath, pointing his wand towards her face.

"This wont hurt." He said kindly to her, and her sobbing subsided slightly. "Avada Kadavera!"

**A/N: Hey guys! Hope your still enjoying the fic, I am going to bed now but i wanted to post before I did. Hope you liked it!  
**


	9. From the Banister

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for all of the awesome and positive reviews I really loved them! - Sorry I haven't updated in a few days I had a wedding to go to. . . it was amazing my friends are so happy and it was great to see, even though it was 15 hours long and my feet are killing me from wearing heels all day. . . but it was worth it.**

**I am planning on updating this and then taking a nap, and then maybe updating one of my other fics. This one seems to be getting the most praise so I'm putting this one on my priority list. **

**This chapter contains some things that may people find inappropriate, I am giving my warning now. I want you to know that I think there is never a scenario when some one should end there life, and I believe that no matter what happens we should continue to fight because just when you aren't expecting it something amazing will happen, and you will realize that hanging on was the best decision you ever made. **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Nine**

**From the Banister **

Hermione sat back up in Draco's bed that evening, the piece of parchment held tightly in her clammy fingers. She felt excited at the idea of having Harry back. She had been so long without him that she almost couldn't remember what he looked like anymore. The sound of his voice seemed so distant to her, and she wasn't sure that she could remember how to brew a perfect potion, especially not one of this complexity.

The sounds of Ron's screams echoed in her mind, making her wince. She wondered when he had died. Her time in the prison seemed to amalgamate into one large blur, making her memory cloudy. She found herself beginning to understand the idea of him being dead, and it was finally starting to hit her. She found herself staring blankly at the fire, missing him terribly, a single tear rolling down her elegant cheek.

She rolled back her sleeve and stared at the dark mark burned into her skin, and felt an angry hatred. She wondered what would become of her if she had not mastered occulmacy before the great battle. That was how Voldemort summoned his followers, through mind control and dark magic, and without being able to enter into her mind, he couldn't summon her. She felt comforted at this thought, and even though the marking tingled softly, she did not fall victim to its spell.

Three years ago she never would have guessed that it would be Draco Malfoy who saved her life. But then, who could have broken in and out of the prison so easily if not the third in command? He had been gone some time now and she was beginning to wonder if maybe Pansy had ratted on him. The thought of Draco Malfoy being killed did not faze her to say the least, but the idea of being left alone with three Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor however, did. She found herself wondering where she would go if he didn't come back, and didn't have any thoughts. Maybe she would go try to find the rebel camp in the Dark Forest.

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound as Draco came barging into the room. This made her jump slightly, and snapped her violently out of her thoughts. She watched him as he pulled his black hood off from over his head, many rings on his fingers. He stumbled towards the door to his bathroom. He entered it without a word, and slammed the door shut behind him. Hermione saw a bloody handprint where his fingers had grasped the wooden frame, and a moment later a loud coughing sound could be heard coming from the other side of its oak surface. She wondered what had happened, if he had been found out.

It sounded as though he was vomiting and gasping for air on the other side, and it made her feel sick to her stomach as well. She took a deep breath, not believing what she was doing. She dragged herself from beneath the cotton sheets and walked weakly over to the bathroom door, pausing with her hand ready to knock. She could hear him gasping for breath and running the water.

She knocked softly.

There was no answer.

She knocked once more, this time a little harder.

"Malfoy?" She asked softly, pressing her ear to the door. It sounded as though he was spitting in the sink. She wondered just what it was that he had been asked to do.

There was silence for what seemed like a long time, and then the door opened softly. Draco stood there staring at her, his cold grey eyes piercing into hers making her knees feel weak. His skin was paler then she had ever seen before, and his hands were shaking slightly. He seemed to be trying to hide the fact, because he was looking at her in both a questioning and a menacing stare. She took a deep breath, feeling slightly frightened.

He didn't say anything, he just looked at her.

Hermione swallowed profusely, trying her best not to just retaliate back to the comforts of his bed. He continued staring at her.

"Are you alright?"

She found herself wondering why she would ask him that, and felt as though the appropriate action to take would be to bang her head against the door frame violently. He looked away from her, caressing his hair with his slender fingertips and supporting himself against the wall. Then he looked at her once more.

"Cho is dead."

Hermione stared back at him for a moment, confused. She could not bring herself to remember exactly who this person was, and was racking her brains trying to remember. Then she saw the image of a girls face in her head, and remembered her.

"I killed her." He said quietly, looking away once again. Hermione thought for a moment she saw the glitter in his eyes from tears, but chose to ignore this. She found herself feeling incredibly sorry for him, when really she should have been feeling angry. She couldn't believe she was even speaking to him in a civilized manner at all. He sniffed softly, his eyes looking as though they were staring right through the world, and his mind was in another place.

She stepped out of his way and he walked slowly over to the bed, collapsing onto it in a wave of black robes, and burying his face in his hands. She watched him as he sniffed softly, rubbing his hair and his eyes, which were red and raw. She didn't ask him why he had killed her, that was obvious. She did not ask what Cho had been doing there, she knew the answer to that too. She hated to admit, the word of Cho being killed made her slightly comforted, just for the fact that if Cho had been alive, maybe some of her other friends were alive too.

"I haven't had a chance to go look for that book yet." Draco hissed, face still buried in his white hands. "I think that we should go to bed, it's late. I'm sure you're exhausted, I know that I am. I will sleep in one of the guest bedrooms down the hall if you like. If you need anything to eat or drink, just call one of the house elves, they will come to you."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but he was already standing and leaving the room. As he reached the doorway he turned back to her momentarily, his silver eyes fixied on hers and making her shiver. He looked gentle at the moment, his eyes filled with a blank sort of compassion and pity. She wondered exactly what he must be feeling right now.

"My father has a collection of wands down in his study." Said Draco quietly, once again supporting himself against the wall and grunting slightly in pain as he did. "I am going to have a look tomorrow and see if I can find yours."

"My wand was a-"

"I know what your wand was Granger." He said coolly, still looking at her. "You had it pointed in my face enough times."

She forced a slight smile at this comment, as he turned and left the room without another word. She found herself standing there for a moment, hand clutching her wrist where it burned lightly. She found herself almost wishing that he had stayed with her, to protect her. For reasons unknown, she felt much more vulnerable here then she had in the prison. She took a deep breath, wiping away a tear from her cold cheek, and made her way back over to the bed. She ached all over, but it was a comforting sort of ache. She felt that the only thing keeping her going was the thought of bringing Harry back, of seeing his smile again. She missed him more then anything, and she missed Ron. The fire crackled softly beside her as she laid her head against the pillow, and tried to close her eyes.

She was just drifting off into a sleep, when a loud crashing sound filled the room. She sat up drowsily, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room for the source of the noise. She couldn't see anything. Then another bang sounded once more, making her jump. It sounded as though it was coming from the room next door. She stood from the bed and made her way over to her door, opening it and sneaking out into the hallway. It was dark, but the torches still burned dimly, illuminating her path. She walked towards the door just down the hall, it was pulled open very slightly.

She stopped and listened.

"Pansy! I told you before, she is here because I god damn need her!"

"Tell me what she is here for Draco, because I know that she isn't supposed to be!"

"I told you already, that is none of your god damn business! Just leave me alone alright, I've had a long night and the last thing I need is you hounding me right now!'"

"Is it true? Did the Dark Lord really find rebels in the Dark Forest?"

"Yes, a lot of them. I could see fear in his eyes when he spoke of it."

"Do you think there is a chance of anything happening?"

"I doubt it, he has become much to strong for that. They would have to have an entire army together, and who knows what else."

"And what does Granger have to do with all of this?"

"Pansy, that is none of your concern! Now, get out before I make you!"

Hermione heard a whimpering sound, and footsteps towards the door she was standing at. She stepped back and jumped behind a sculpture of a dragon, just as the door swung open violently and a very flustered Pansy made her way out into the corridor.

"You aren't even going to ask me to join you in your bed?" She asked cheekily, as Draco took the door to close it behind her.

He sighed.

"I'm tired, I'm sore, and I'm bloody flustered." He said, as though forcing himself to be collected and calm. "I am in no mood for your company. Goodnight Pansy."

Then the door slammed closed. Hermione heard Pansy let out a soft whimper, and watched the girl's dark figure press her forehead against the door softly where Draco had himself quarantined. Hermione thought she looked extremely hurt and frustrated. Pansy continued to rest her head against the door, letting her eyes fall closed and taking a deep breath. Then she raised her hand to knock once more, hesitating at the last second. Then she turned away from the door and left down the hallway.

Hermione found herself almost pitying the girl. She wondered how someone could be so in love with someone who obviously didn't return the favor. She thought that it must be a difficult thing, being in love with someone who didn't love you back. She had never had that problem, Ron had always cared for her, even though he had an odd way of showing it.

She waited until Pansy was for sure gone, and then approached Draco's door. She was not sure what had inspired her to do so, but she did it all the same. She lifted her hand and knocked very softly.

A muffled voice came from inside, as though his face was buried in a pillow.

"I told you Pansy, not tonight."

Hermione cleared her throat, letting him know that it wasn't Pansy. She took the door knob in her hand and turned it quietly, entering the room where he was now sleeping. It was almost identical to Draco's room, but the furniture was reversed and the bathroom was on the other side. Draco was laying face first on the bed, clothing still on. He raised his head to look at her when she entered.

"Granger?" He asked her, more confused then cold. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep." She said softly, making her way over and standing over his bed, hands grasped to her arms as she shivered uncontrollably. "Then I heard yelling, I wanted to see what was going on."

Draco buried his face back into his pillow, letting out a low sigh.

"Pansy and I are always like that." He droned. "I am forced to have her as yet another burden, as my father insists that she stay here."

Hermione watched the back of his head quietly, wondering what was going through his head.

"Well, sorry to bother you then." She said quietly, turning to leave the room. She heard the sounds of him getting up from where he was, and turning to her.

"Granger." He said softly, clearing his throat as though he was uncomfortable. "You can. . . you know, I wouldn't if you stayed for awhile."

She found herself smirking at these words, as she turned to look at him. He forced her a slight smile, patting the bed beside him and motioning her over. He seemed to sense that she was lonely. She walked over without hesitation and sat down next to him, watching him carefully.

"Tomorrow I will find that book." He said to her, still looking at her with those icy silver pools he had for eyes. "And I will find your wand. It must be down there somewhere, the Dark Lord never throws them away."

Hermione watched him for a moment, wondering what had happened to make him become so brave. Was it the fact that his mother was gone and now he had nothing stopping him from fighting back?

"So," Draco said, staring at his hands nervously. "Are you going to tell me about that?"

Hermione followed his gaze as he nodded towards her wrist. She gasped softly, her eyes falling on the skull marking of the Death Eater. She looked away, feeling her face beginning to burn.

She opened her mouth to respond.

"I-"

"MASTER! MASTER MALFOY!"

Draco snapped his gaze away from hers, standing quickly and running towards the door exiting the bed room. Hermione stood also, following him outside and into the corridor. The yells had sounded as though they were coming from a house elf.

Draco looked around for the source of the sound, though neither of them could see anything.

"MASTER MALFOY COME QUICKLY!"

Hermione knew it must be important for a house elf to be shouting at this hour of the night. Draco turned and began towards the entrance hall, Hermione close at tow. She found herself struggling to keep up slightly, being sore all over. There was a loud commotion coming from the hall downstairs, as she looked over the banister. Dozens of house elves were all whispering quietly among one another, staring and pointing at one spot in particular. She followed their gaze and felt her heart stop.

A long tangled rope had been tied around the very tallest of banister railings, falling tightly towards the hard marble floor. Underneath it, feet dangling just inches from the security of solid ground, Pansy hung dead, the rope tied securely around her throat. Hermione gasped, eyes wandering over the girl as she hung there lifeless, eyes rolled back in her head, arms limp at her sides. She was swaying slightly, her long black hair cascaded over her face from the struggle.

**A/N: As I said already, a little bit out there. Any how, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and reviews would just be awesome!**


	10. First Kiss

**A/N: Once again I'm sorry for the late update. I had another wedding this weekend, this time I was a bridesmaid! I actually preferred this wedding to the last one I went to because it was more laid back. I had a lot of fun as a bridesmaid we wore these very nice long hugged royal blue dresses with halter top straps, they were actually nice to look at unlike some bridesmaid dresses!**

**Anyhow,**

**I am so incredibly glad that you guys enjoyed the last chapter, I honestly wasn't sure how it was going to go over but most people seemed thrilled. I think I may have made a few people feel sorry for Pansy though, which was actually my plan because I wanted to show the softer side of her right before she died. I am honestly not sure what is to come next, I have no plan, pretty bad, but I will make it work!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Ten**

**First Kiss**

The cold feeling that seemed to creep up Draco's spine was imminent. He found himself staring at the raven haired girl, who swayed softly from the rails he had slid down as a child.

He had nothing to say.

He felt that it was his fault, that she had done what she did, that maybe he could have been a little kinder to her over the years. The fact that she was now dead seemed to sink into him like a heavy weight, making his legs numb and his heart heavy.

Hermione stood behind him, he could feel her eyes. He hadn't turned around to say anything to her, or given any word of what he wanted to be done. The world seemed to have come to a stand still and nothing seemed to flicker his vision from the dead cold eyes of Pansy Parkinson. Somewhere she was now watching him, mocking him for his arrogance. He could feel his hand shaking as he rested a cold palm on the rail, and looked down at the swarm of house elves crowded around her dangling corpse.

He swallowed profusely, eyes dry from forgetting to blink.

The house elves all seemed to stare up at him with certain compassion, their massive orbs they had for eyes watery and glazed.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Draco asked, though he choked slightly as he spoke. "Get rid of her."

He waved his hand and spun around, not bearing to see the sight any longer. He knew that he wasn't going to be able to sleep now.

Hermione was still standing behind him, face pale and arms straddling her shoulders. He gave her a disgusted look, not believing that she was here in his house. He felt as though he must be dreaming.

There she was, the girl he loathed, looking at him with an innocent gaze which pierced his insides. The same eyes which had stared at him for over ten years, cold and unforgiving.

She shifted slightly, her eyes were not cold or unforgiving now. He could see a faint pity in her stare, and it made him feel sick.

He scowled, sweeping past her without a word, head held high above him. She continued to watch him, her eyes burning holes in the back of his head as he entered the room he was sleeping in and closed the door.

Shutting it tightly, he let his eyes fall shut and leaned back against the oak frame, supporting himself with his arms. He took a deep breath, not being able to see anything other then the haunting image of Pansy dead in the hall. It seemed that people were dying all around him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He rubbed his cold and clammy palm against his face, wiping away a freezing sweat, and relaxed his body.

Then suddenly, without hesitation, he had snatched up his wand from the pocket of his robes and fired a deadly blast at the mirror on the room's far end. It shattered with a heart-stopping crash, sending shards of broken glass whirling through the air. He let out a loud roar, sending another shot towards the portraits of distant relatives which hung from the walls. The occupants of the portraits ran and disappeared from the frames as they also came shattering down to the emerald carpeting.

Then, all was silent.

Draco closed his eyes once more, sliding down the door with his back and collapsing to the floor. He banged the back of his head on it several times before settling down and staying still, pale hands pressed against the ground and chest caving inwards heavily.

Would he ever be happy?

He had never been happy.

The only time he had ever felt the least bit happy was when he was on his broom, soaring high above the tree tops, free as a bird. The feeling of a woman's touch had never made him happy in the least. Sex was a dull and tedious affair, which always led to drama, and that also wasn't something which made him happy.

He contemplated joining Pansy in death, doing himself in as well.

Then he thought of his mother, fare and beautiful, and what she would say to him. He knew she would want him to continue forward, and bring back the Boy Who Lived. He did not know if he could live with the heavy heart he carried, the conscience which haunted him every waking moment of his pitiful life. He thought that maybe somewhere deep in his pitiful and pathetic soul, there was a person who had a meaning to their existence, a person who was meant to make a difference in the world.

There was a soft knock on the door suddenly.

Draco rolled his eyes, head still pressed against the door's oak finish.

"What?"

"It's Hermione, let me in Malfoy."

He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the vast ceiling, wand twirling in his pale fingertips.

"Get lost Granger, what could you possible want from me right now?" He droned, not removing himself from in front of the door.

"Just let me in Malfoy."

His eyes snapped open. He hated when people spoke to him in that manner.

He stood swiftly from the floor and yanked the door open. There stood Granger, supporting herself against the frame of the door and staring at him with those cold brown eyes. They just watched each other for a moment, neither of them saying a word.

He raised his eyebrows towards her, as though silently asking her what it was that she wanted.

"Why is it that you continue to bother me?" He asked her, crossing his arms as she pushed past him and into the bedroom. "We utterly despise one another Granger, or have you forgotten that fact so quickly?"

Back turned to him, she stopped suddenly.

"I know what it's like, to lose a friend." She said quietly, as she turned slowly and looked at him.

Her eyes met his, and suddenly an odd sort of feeling came over him, making his body feel weak. He did not know what this feeling was, so he brushed it off as quickly as it had come. As soon as the strange feeling had passed, his heart began to race, and his hands went tingly. He wished desperately to know what she was doing to make his body act so differently, but did not know the answer.

Whatever it was, he didn't like it.

She continued to stare at him with that gaze, as she stepped closer to him, her face inches from his. He crossed his arms towards her, not blinking or looking away from her for a second. He wasn't going to let this mudblood overrun him in his own home.

"It's the most lonely and terrible feeling in the world, isn't it?" She asked him softly, still staring deep into his eyes. He found himself giving in to her, and breaking the gaze by looking at his feet.

He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand in an arrogant manner. He kicked at an invisible object on the floor, and then spoke.

"I've seen it all before Granger, and it's nothing that I can't handle."

She continued watching him, unconvinced by his response.

She took a step closer, and Draco found his heart racing even faster. He found himself thinking to himself why he was not attempting to push her away from him, or get as far away from her as possible. What was it about her that was suddenly making him feel defenseless and weak?

"How do you do it, Malfoy?" She whispered, eyes not flickering.

"Do what?" He drawled, placing his hands on his hips. "I don't know what you are talking about Granger."

She nodded at him.

"Hide your feelings." She replied. "I don't understand how one person can keep so many feelings and emotions just bottled up in one place for so long. Don't you ever just, want to explode? I don't care who you are, Draco Malfoy, we all have emotions, and you are no exception, no matter how pure the bloodline or how proper the posture."

Draco felt threatened by her, and stepped backwards.

"Get lost Granger, you are way out of line!"

"I can see right through you." She continued, still stepping closer. He found himself swallowing swiftly, as she backed him against the wall. Her lips were now only inches from his, and he could feel her breath caressing his skin.

He found himself enjoying this feeling, and mentally smacked himself.

"Every scowl," She whispered, moving even closer. "Every single word of cruelty, every sigh and groan and arrogant step you take, I can still see right through it all Draco Malfoy and I know exactly what you are."

"And what am I?!" He hollered, stepping towards her and making her take a step back, shocked from his response.

"A human being!" She screamed, holding up her hands to stop him, and resting them on his chest. "I don't care what terrible things you've done Draco Malfoy, I know what you feel and I understand your pain. I am the same."

He stopped, his face lightening and his breath slowing. The things she was saying angered him but at the same time he found himself aching to have her hold him.

Was he right in the head, had the Dark Lord put a curse on him?

Why was he suddenly feeling the need to lunge at Hermione Granger?

They just stood there for a moment, eyes locked and cold. She would not look away, why would she not look away? She was the most stubborn female he had ever met.

He found his breath seizing in his chest as she moved her lips slightly closer to his own, hot breath on his face. An odd sort of sickly feeling made itself known in his stomach, but it wasn't a bad feeling. There was something about that woman that had suddenly made him feel defenseless, and he felt there was nothing he could do about it.

Her lips were so close he could taste them, but neither of them made another move.

"You aren't the cold-blooded killer that everyone thinks you to be, Malfoy." She said quietly, making him shiver as she scanned over his face with her eyes. "You are much deeper then they say. I never saw it before, but now I can. I see a boy who is tormented by his father and alone in this world. I see a boy who screams out to be forgiven for everything he has done and just wishes it to all be over. There is a heart in there somewhere, the heart of a loving son, and a brave warrior."

That was it, he had had enough from her.

He snatched her wrists up with his hands, they felt warm compared with his. She squeaked slightly as he yanked her towards him, scowling and angry. She continued to look into his eyes, something very few people could do.

He could feel her shaking underneath his hands.

"You need to learn your place here mudblood." He spat angrily, launching her back a few feet.

She just looked at him sympathetically, as though waiting for him to change his mind.

She looked so innocent and compassionate.

Why was it he just wanted to march over to where she stood and pull her into his arms?

He shook his head angrily, trying to rattle away the thoughts he was having.

Then he turned back to her.

"Get out Granger."

She scowled towards him, before marching past him. She grabbed hold of the door handle, pulling it open softly. Then she turned back to him, and said:

"I guess I was wrong, you really are a coward."

This made him very angry. He jumped forwards slamming the door shut and pinning her against it, nostrils flaring and eyes wild with rage. She didn't look frightened as her eyes met his, making him shiver.

What was happening to him?

Then, before he even knew what had happened, his breathing had calmed softly, and his hands were softening against her body, pulling her against him. His eyes had become gently and were washing over her face, a hand on her throat. Her chest caved in and out against his own, making his knees weak. Her body felt warm against him, and he pulled her even closer.

Then he let his eyes fall closed, and quietly pressed his lips against hers. An instant tingling traveled through his body, from his face right down to his toes. He held on to her to keep from falling to the floor, as her tongue met with his and he tasted her sweet mouth. His lips felt overly sensitive and swollen to the touch, and an instant feeling of stiffness made its way from between his legs.

He opened his eyes suddenly, realizing what it was he was doing.

He pushed her away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and turning away from her. He did not know what to do or say, except that he wanted more.

This had to stop.

He turned back to her, she was staring at him the same way she had been the moment before he had kissed her.

"Get out, Granger."

**A/N: Ooooohhh the first kiss. Not sure what to think of this, I think it's interesting. Just a little teaser I guess. In the next chapter I am going to get to the library and telling you all of the plan to resurrect Harry, and maybe fill you all in on Hermione's dark mark**

**Thanks for reading, love to hear from you!**


	11. The Secret of the Dark Mark

**A/N: Hello everyone! -**

**I cannot begin to express my gratitude for all the amazing reviews I've been getting, I am just so thrilled. Thank you all a thousand times over! I don't know what it is about this fic in particular but it just seems to really make me want to write more and more, I want to make this story go on forever! **

**I have this totally ridiculous idea for the plot and why Hermione has the dark mark. I'm not sure how it will go over with her avid fans, because it is going to make her seem a totally different person! I want to say that it's slightly realistic, but in this case it might not be, I just don't know how well it will go over, hopefully for the best!**

**I guarantee you this will be a plot you have ****never read before****. I noticed that for the most part the Dramione fics are always slightly the same… Draco dark and torn, and blah blah. Well I have this crazy new idea which just sprouted in my mind, and I want to try it out! **

**Lol, anywho, as always love to hear from you, and here are some responses to your reviews:**

**LadyNorth76****: I'm not sure what it was about reading your review, but it inspired my idea for the plot.. . . well I mean it didn't but I thought of this plot right when I was reading your review, it was when you said you hoped it was really good, and I decided that I needed something more OUT THERE then what I had. So thank you to you for making my idea all the better!**

**Snapeysnape****: It is driving me crazy as well don't worry! I just didn't feel the idea I had was a good enough one, but now I do! So you will be finding out in this chapter, I think!**

**Fitjess****: Now that you say it, you are right the slave prison would have been better somewhere else, I never really thought of that. But I kinda did think that even though Voldemort looked at it as his home, he also loathed it all at the same time because it had kept so many he wanted dead safe from him for so long. Thanks for the review!**

**Thank you to all the rest who I did not include in my responses!**

**Enjoy!**

**I KNOW THIS PLOT IS DIFFERENT THEN ANY EVER READ BY ANY OF YOU! CLAPS**

**Chapter Eleven**

**The Secret of the Dark Mark**

A day had passed over Malfoy Manor, cold and silent. Neither of the two staying there had spoken, and neither had attempted to change the matter. Both were feeling overwhelmed with feelings that they did not understand, and both were confused.

They had not been down to the Library to look for the book Draco's mother had given them, nor had they even uttered the matter. Hermione grew more and more restless, wanting desperately to know of the plans to resurrect her dearest friend.

Harry.

If only he knew of what she had done so long ago.

If only he knew of her intentions to do wrong to him.

She sat alone, staring blankly out the window, massaging her wrist where the dark mark throbbed.

She knew Voldemort was trying to reach her; he had always been trying to reach her, since as long as she could remember. She had outwitted him, and taken the risks of blocking him from her mind. She had learned to block him from her mind at the age of thirteen.

She stood up suddenly, feeling slightly dizzy. She staggered towards the door, and opened it without hesitation. She was tired of sitting around when there was work to be done. She needed to know of the plan to bring back Harry. She would have gladly gone to the Library to look for the book herself, but she did not know where it was located and did not want to get lost in the labyrinth of hallways and corridors.

She made her way to the bedroom down the hall, and pounded on it sternly with her fists. She leaned her ear towards the door, listening for any sounds at all inside.

Silence.

She pounded on the door once more.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" She hollered, knocking even harder. "Open up!"

Silence.

Finally, losing all of her possible patience, she raised her hand to the door knob, and shut her eyes tightly. She concentrated very hard, and muttered soft words under her breath.

The door clicked quietly.

She opened her eyes, grabbing hold of the handle and tearing through the door without thought. Malfoy was sitting on his bed, but immediately stood to his feet when she barged in, eyes wide with shock.

"Granger!?" He gasped, looking from her hand and to the door, noticing she had done it without a wand. "What are you-how did you get in here?"

She stormed over to him, eyes flaring and hair tossed every which way. Without a word, she pointed her hand towards him and he shot backwards onto the bed. He scrambled back against the pillows, taken back by her magic capabilities. He looked around desperately for his wand, but she had already caught sight of it, and summoned it into her hand.

She pointed it towards him, eyes piercing into his soul.

She could see him shaking.

--

Draco felt frightened for the first time in a very long time that evening, as she stared at him like a raging bull ready to charge, pointing his own wand towards his still beating chest. She had let herself in, knocked him backwards, and taken his wand without any wand of her own, as though she didn't need one at all.

"Where is the Library Malfoy!?" She hissed, stepping closer to him, wand still pointed between his eyes. "Tell me where it is!"

He opened his mouth to speak.

"TELL ME!" She roared, jumping forwards until the wand was jabbing him between the eyes. He could feel his hands beginning to shake, his blood boiling.

She seemed to see that he was overwhelmed and frightened, because her eyes grew gentle and her frown faded. Eyes watering, she lowered the wand to her side, though continuing to watch him closely.

"It's, on the fourth floor." He said quietly, sitting up slightly and rubbing his head where it had bashed against the bed board. "But you can't get in there without the password, the statue won't allow it."

"Then what is the password?" She asked him, her voice less violent now.

Draco looked at her carefully, as though examining a rare creature. He felt perplexed and speechless. Then his eyes fell onto her wrist, and once again his head began filling with questions.

"Eye for an eye, Granger." He sneered, sitting up fully and moving towards the edge of the bed. "Tell me why you have the mark of the Dark Lord, and I will tell you the password to the Library."

Her eyes seemed to flicker towards her wrist, though they still remained on his own eyes. He could see himself in their dark pools, pale and frightened looking. Her hair was scattered over her face and her chest was breathing heavily, but her eyes remained on his.

"Why I have the dark mark, is none of your business Malfoy." She said quietly, raising the wand and pointing it back towards him. "Now, tell me where the Library is, or I swear I will kill you."

Draco snorted arrogantly, rolling his eyes.

"If you kill me, how do you suppose you are going to figure out the password?" He sneered. "You tell me why you have the dark mark, and then I will tell you the password to the Library, _Granger_."

She looked taken back by his wits, as though she had always thought him incredibly stupid.

She lowered the wand once more, her eyes shooting darts and her breathing growing more and more heavy.

"Alright Malfoy, you win." She droned, running her hand through her hair and sighing loudly for him to hear. "But I want you to know, that I've never spoken of the reason to anyone, except one other."

He nodded, as she walked over and took a seat on the edge of the bed next to him, and stared at the floor.

"Did you ever hear about that muggle who went missing all those years ago? You would have only been about five. The parents had said that she had just vanished from thin air, and it was all over the news and headlines for months?"

Draco shook his head no, and she continued.

"Well it was. The news had described it as the parents going mad, even though both were determined to let the world know that they had both seen her just disappear from her stroller in downtown London."

"I think, I do remember that." Draco muttered quietly. She looked up at him, eyes flashing excitedly for a moment. "Didn't the Ministry of Magic get involved, because they knew it must have been someone from the Wizarding World who took the child?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yes. They never found out who did or what happened to the child. The parents were sent to a muggle institution for insanity and never came out, and after a few years the world seemed to forget all about the little girl who had gone missing."

"What does this have to do with you having the mark of the Dark Lord, Granger?" Draco droned, once more rolling his eyes.

She stared at him.

"Because, Malfoy, that little child was me."

He watched her for a moment, not daring to speak. He was so incredibly taken back, that no words would leave his lips.

"You want to know who took me?" She continued, raising her eyebrow towards him.

Silence fell over them.

"Your father."

Draco stood up suddenly from his bed, in an outrage.

"That's a lie!" He snapped fiercely. "Why would my own father steal a muggle-born child!?"

"Because Voldemort had directed him to do so." Hermione replied, her eyes not leaving his.

Draco knew that he couldn't believe what she was saying.

He wouldn't believe it.

"I was kidnapped and taken to the Lestrange Manor, away from where anyone could find me. Even though Voldemort was 'dead', he was still able to give orders to your father, who trapped me like a slave. He beat me and tortured me, and taught me everything there was to know about the Dark Arts. By the time I was eight, I could already kill with the Avada Kedavera curse, and had mastered Imperius.

I was a living breathing experiment of Voldemort. His play thing, as you might call it. I was taught that everything in life was meaningless, except the death of a boy who I knew nothing about. The boy's name was Harry Potter.

The training continued, until I reached the age of eleven. By that time, I had mastered the art of magic without a wand, and could do so if I wish. Then I was placed under the care of my two current parents, who are not my real parents of course. They were enchanted into believing I had been their daughter all along, and that they had raised me since I was very young. When the letter came for my acceptance into Hogwarts, they let me leave without hesitation, thinking they had known me their whole life.

The night before I was sent to Hogwarts, two hooded Death Eaters visited me in my new muggle bed, and burned the mark of Him into my arm. I had never seen Him, before, nor spoken to Him, but I knew that he was very very real. When I got to Hogwarts for my first year, I was sent a letter with instructions to befriend the boy named Harry Potter, and stay friends with him until the time came.

At the time I did not know that the time when Voldemort would return would be in the fourth year, but I knew what to do. I became as close to Harry as I possibly could, and did my very best to pretend that I had not learned all of the lessons that were being taught. Yes, that's right Malfoy, I was not the greatest witch of my age, I had already been taught everything I could possible need to know.

By the third year, I had become incredible close to Ron and Harry both, and even though I knew nothing of the proper morals, I knew that I was not going to be able to help Voldemort kill Harry when the time came. I began researching on Occlumency, and studying it as best I could. I learned to block out all powers of dark magic, which is why Voldemort cannot summon me using my mark. I also went to Dumbledore, and I told him everything.

He was kind to me, and offered to help me. He said that he knew of everything already, and knew where I had come from and why I was there. He said he had made sure to invite me into Hogwarts deliberately, so that he may have the greatest and most powerful witch on the proper side of the battle when the time came.

Even through all of the torture, and all of the darkness, I managed to work it all out and become a good person. I fought off any bad urges, and any evil that had poisoned me, and instantly became the witch I was meant to be. I stood by Harry's side, and by the fourth year I was far too powerful for Voldemort to reach, and was not there to aide him in the cemetery that night.

That is why Voldemort placed me in the highest tower of the slave pens, and next to Ron so that I could hear him scream."

Draco blinked twice, but did not say a word. Then he fidgeted slightly, as though nervous.

"You lost your mind while locked up, didn't you Granger?" He asked her flatly, snorting softly and realizing just how preposterous the idea really was.

She just looked at him, and he knew that she was dead serious.

"So, let me get this straight." He said, adjusting himself where he was sitting. "Basically, you are trying to tell me, that you are a muggle, kidnapped and transformed into a trained warrior, who would eventually lead up to Harry Potters death?"

She nodded to him.

"I was the one who put the diary in Ginny's cauldron in the second year." She said flatly, still staring at him. "It wasn't your father at all."

"You are completely off of your rocker." Draco muttered, rubbing his forehead in an exhausted manner.

"No, Malfoy, I'm not." She said softly. "Does it not all make sense to you?"

"No it doesn't, because you were way too nice to him to ever have been evil-"

"Just because I was raised up to be evil doesn't mean that I am evil Malfoy." She cut in angrily, getting to her feet and towering over him. "I'm not the same as your father, who is just evil!"

Draco went to retaliate, but he had no come back. He could not argue the fact that his father was an evil man. He could not argue that he himself was evil. He knew both of these statements to be very much true.

He shook his head, confused and worn out.

"But, why would the Dark Lord use a random muggle, instead of someone from this world?" He asked out loud. "It just doesn't make sense."

"Yes it does." She responded abruptly. "Think Malfoy! Stealing a child from the muggle world, he could get away with it, but stealing a child from this world, it would never fly. Do you think any parents in their right minds would let their child go through such hell? NO!"

"My father probably would have let me go through it." Draco muttered quietly.

"Yes, but would your mother have?"

At those words, Draco felt his bottom lip tremble. He did not wish to think about his mother, or see her face. The longing he had to have her back was overpowering and sickened him, making him feel weak.

"It's never too late to do something good." Hermione said to him, sitting down beside him once more. "Never."

"That's easy for you to say, you never actually did anything wrong."

"A student could have died at Hogwarts, the year I gave away the diary and allowed the Chamber of Secrets to be opened." Hermione said, sniffing softly as she stared back to the floor.

Draco turned and watched her. Suddenly he felt closer to her then he ever had before.

"I've killed Granger." He said sternly. "I've wiped blood of innocent people off of my hands and face. I've stood there as people screamed and cried and let them die."

There was silence for a moment as they both sat there deep in thoughts.

Neither knew what to do or say now.

There was a moment where their eyes seemed to meet for the first time, as though they were seeing life through one another's vision and understanding the others pain.

Once again that feeling came over Draco, that odd sort of feeling he did not understand. His breathing grew hoarse and his face hot as he looked at her. For the first time in his life he actually thought to himself that she was beautiful. Maybe it was the fact that she was more like him then he had even known, forced into something she did not want to be a part of. Maybe it was because she was being open with him for the first time. He did not know.

All he knew was that he wanted more than anything at that moment, to kiss her.

He looked away from her brown eyes suddenly, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair, which were clammy and cold. He felt nervous around her.

She was still looking at him, he could feel it.

He looked back at her, his heart jolting suddenly in his chest as he did. She was making him feel completely helpless and dizzy, and he was not sure what was happening.

There was an awkward silence surrounding them, but still they continued to watch one another.

Suddenly, the silence was broken, and Draco could have smacked himself for his own stupidity.

"Wolf Fang." He said softly, looking back at the floor, his lips trembling and an uncomfortable throbbing making itself known between his legs. "The password is Wolf Fang. There Granger, now you can leave."

He waved his hand towards the door, as though she was his slave.

He felt confused as she continued to watch him.

Then, he felt as though his heart had stopped, and his hands would never be still, as she leaned forwards and pressed her lips against his cheek for a moments time, giving him a warm and gentle kiss.

He shivered uncontrollably, and turned to her.

He wanted more then anything now to kiss her completely, but she had already risen from the bed and had made her way towards the door and out of the room.

Leaving him alone and stricken.

**A/N: OMG OMG! Please please tell me you liked it, I thought it all fit really well in the end. Because you don't really know a lot about Hermione's parents and yeah, and just her being so smart and knowing everything, and just yeah please tell me what you think.**

**I hope you are all satisfied!**


	12. Alone in Dark

**A/N: Hello Everyone,**

**I am pleased to say that after countless time off from updating my stories on this site, I am finally back for good. **

**I am also pleased to inform everyone that I have finally completed my first fantasy novel. I am currently in the process of having it published (although I am having some difficulties, as literary agents are quite difficult to find).**

**If any of you happen to know a good literary agent currently taking new clients, I would love to hear from you. This novel is a cross-over fantasy of about 175 thousand words. **

**Thank you for everything!**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Alone **

An eerie and odd feeling had come over the body of Hermione Granger that day. Her skin was cold and her arms quivered as she searched through the library. Not even the sight of all of those books was enough to make her smile.

She realized now what she had just done.

She had trusted her deepest and most darkened secret to the soul of one Draco Malfoy, and in doing so had put her life on the line. If he decided that he was finished with her, or did not want her around, one utter of her undesired troubles and her life would be once more plunged into a darkness she could not run from.

She could try to run from her fears, and she could try to hide from the memories which haunted her dreams. She could smile and laugh and act as though nothing was wrong, but nothing would change the fact that she was now a traumatized and helpless girl.

Honestly, she was surprised that she was functioning as it is. Her body ached and her soul was crushed. Any feeling of happiness she once had was now swallowed in an endless sea of black hatred. Even her hatred, however, was swallowed ever so deeply that now all she felt was numbness. She knew that she should be angry, she should be furious for the way she had been treated.

All that was left of Hermione Granger was an empty and bottomless shell, incapable of love. The unconditional and endless love she had once felt for the ones she held most dear was gone. In the far reaches of the outskirts of her mind, she knew what love had once felt like, she knew that it had been there. The pain and suffering when she heard Ronald's screams from the cell next to hers, and the endless cries.

The pain she had felt when she watched Voldemort kill her parents, smothering her in their own hot red blood. The frightened and pale looks on their faces when they breathed their final breaths, and Hermione begged to join them. She, however, was not given the pleasure. Three years of torture and unwanted visits to her cell, and somehow she was still a sane human being.

Now she was living under the very roof of one of the reasons she had ended up in that terrible place, and she was no longer bitter. She had lost her abrupt and stubborn personality. Her entire life had been a lie.

The mark throbbed. It throbbed and ached against her clammy skin. Hiding it all of that time had been nothing other then a challenge of insanity. Casting spells every morning to conceal the evil eyes which stared up at her and pulsed every night, wearing long sleeves and non revealing clothing just to be sure. Muggle make-up and enchantments, anything to keep them from seeing. From seeing what she really was.

Her throat felt acidic, as though vomit was coming from her very insides. That terrible taste of iron against her lips and the feeling of every hair over her body standing erect, was enough to make her faint. Her hands shook as she ran her fingers along the spines of the large and dusty books.

It was dark and gloomy there, as though no one had been there for years. Cob webs and dust covered every inch of every object, and the air was stale. It was thick, making her feel trapped and as though she couldn't breathe. Damp and hot.

She suddenly felt as though she was not alone.

Hermione turned swiftly on one heel, her hair whipping her face as she did so. She scanned the room carefully, squinting through the darkness. She couldn't see anything, but she felt a presence. Then there was a cold breeze against her face, and her breath seized against the walls of her lungs and made her choke.

She continued staring forwards into the darkness, eyes darting this way and that in a panic.

"No." She whispered very quietly, her lungs colliding and then stopping completely. She knew what it was staring back at her from the black depths ahead of her.

"You stay away from me, you understand!" She hissed, forcing herself to swallow and continued to stare at the blankness. "I will not come with you!"

A hiss was the only response she received. She turned away from the hissing sound back towards the book shelf, trying her best to ignore the ever-so-familiar lurker behind her. Then she felt a cold, wet feeling against her neck, as though a rough tongue was trailing her collarbone. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend that she was somewhere else.

Hermione knew if she let it get to her then it would capture her. She had been experiencing this curse since the day she refused to serve the Dark Lord. Another hiss sounded against her earlobes, sending waves of shivers down her spine. Hot breath passed over her chest, making her feel sick. She stood her ground, not moving an inch.

It seemed to go on forever, and then the creature was gone.

The cold went away, and the warmth flowed back into her blood. She let out a harsh breath of relief, going back to the books without even a flinch.

She had never known what they creature was, but it visited her far too often for her own comfort. She did not know what it wanted, or where it was from, all that she knew was that she did not wanted to follow it into whatever hole it had slithered from.

She had never felt so alone in her entire life. She had no one to run to, no one who would listen to her. Everyone had always thought her to be this amazing person. The truth was that she was more afraid then anyone else, that she was more dangerous. She knew what she was capable of, and she knew what she could do if she were let loose on the wrong side.

The truth was that she was coward, running from everything, as she had been her entire life. She had run from telling her friends the truth, and she had betrayed herself. She had never been able to allow herself to be attached to a man, not in the way that most people had. She feared the fact that when the day came, he would cower just as she did, and no one would be there to protect her.

Hermione stepped up onto the small stool ahead of her, looking through the hundreds of book covers and sighing softly to herself. She felt as though she was never going to find it.

Then, there it was. It had a deep red cover and golden writing.

Manifest.

The twenty year old Draco Malfoy paced in his room. Rain hammered against the windowpane like shards of never-ending glass. The sky was dark. It was always dark. He could not recall the last time he had seen the sunshine, or a hint of blue sky. He could not remember the smell of hot pavement, or the lilies his mother used to grow.

_Oh Mother, how could you leave me? How could you leave me here with him... with them? How am I supposed to be the man you wish me to be, when I don't even know what goodness is left in my pathetic soul?_

There was a sudden and instant overcoming of rage in the Death Eater, as he let out a tremendous roar and kicked over a nearby stool. It shot across the room like an angry wooden bullet, splintering in shards and falling to the stone floor.

Draco stood for a moment, chest caving inwards and out, breath heavy and eyes enraged as a hell-dog. Fists clenched and body stiff, he slowly made his may over to the window, and stared out in silently. His hands opened, reveling his rough and brutal palms. So much blood had been spilled with those hands, so much death. It was then that he thought of Pansy, her lifeless body dangling from the banister.

_What was he thinking? Bringing the Granger girl here. Surely the Dark Lord would put the pieces together. _

It was then that the burning began all over again. This time was far stronger then the last. This time was enough to make Draco give out a soft holler of agony. Instead of worrying about his own outcome, he suddenly found himself worrying about Granger. He knew his father was away on business, but what if he came home early and Draco wasn't there? What if he found her?

_Some plan you had Mother. Way to leave me here with nothing and no one. No, Draco, you did this to yourself. You had a choice, there was always a choice. _

Then, the tall and pale man pulled on a blackened cloak with a overly large hood once more, face half hidden in shadow. If one were watching from afar, he would have looked nothing more then a hooded bandit, with gold and silver shining from the bands around his thin fingers. They would see his cloak swoop in the flickering torch light, right before vanishing into thin air, leaving only the trail of smoke.

There was no sound but the lapping of his robes as he landed once more in the Dark Lord's chambers. Draco felt weakened with the fear, which was now burning it's way through his ribcage. So much so, that he nearly collapsed to his knees, rather then voluntarily knelt. His hands once more pressed against the cold hard stone, and his forehead the same, as she spoke:

"You summoned me, Great Lord." He only prayed that Voldemort could not sense his fear.

There was very long pause, an unexpected pause, in which Draco found his body quivering.

"Draco, yes, so good of you to come." Spoke a voice in a very low hiss. Once this sentence was completed, Draco raised his forehead from the floor, just enough to see his lords feet, but not enough to look him in the eyes. He found himself relieved that his hood was hiding so much of his face. He took a deep breath, forcing the words from his lips.

"What is it you wish of me, My Lord?"

"The rebels, Draco." Voldemort exhaled while speaking, as though the words were poison. "I recently sent your father on an errand to stop them, to end their hopeless plotting. They know just as well as I, that I cannot be killed by anyone other then Harry Potter. All the same, it makes me uneasy to know that they are so close to my quarters, up to something."

Draco cringed at the thought. He knew what was coming next.

"Draco, I wish for you to travel to the Dark Forest, and assist your father in the capture of the rebels. He is outnumbered, and I do not trust my other Death Eaters quite enough to send them on this task." There was a slight pause, in which Draco neither nodded nor spoke. He felt his face growing hot. "That is, of course, if your loyalty puts you in the right mind to complete this task asked of you."

"O-of course, M-my Lord." Draco forced the words from his lips like the poison that they were.

"Excellent." Voldemort replied, Draco felt his blood run cold. "I would hate to think that after all these years of the Malfoy's being such loyal servants, that one of you would go rotten."

_He knows. He has to know. _

"Oh little Drakie, mommies boy is all grown up." Draco turned his head to the side, at the sound of her shrill and putrid voice. There she was, standing in the corner, her wand teasing against her lips. His dark, cruel, and crazed aunt Bellatrix. Over the last three years she had grown even more corrupt, there was no humanity left in her blackened mind. "Sorry to hear about mommy Draco, give my regards to father won't you? That is, after we head to the Dark Forest. Wouldn't want you wandering in there alone, now would we?"

Draco did not reply to this, he merely returned her stare. Only, there was excitement in his eyes, no enjoyment. Only hate and anger.

"Oh, and Draco," Draco pulled his face up, just enough to look into Voldemort's dark eyes. "If they continue to resist being captured, kill them. All of them."

**A/N: Well, the first chapter I have done in many moons, and the first of many. I know that the darkness and awfulness is coming wave by wave, however, there is nothing more satisfying then love being found in the most darkest of times... is there? **

**I personally think that you cannot have a good story, without suffering. The romance will come, and it will be intoxicating, however, as I said before, I want this realistic. I want this believed and the love they have to be cherished, not just instant and meaningless. Draco has to be the angry, corrupt person that he truly would be if Voldemort had never lost power. Hermione has to be the damaged and broken individual she would be, if all her loved ones died. **

**I feel I moved too fast in my other fics, and this time I think I might be on the right track to getting it right.**

**I hope that you are enjoying it... and I would love some reviews. Your feedback is always taken into consideration!**

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

**DS**


	13. I Am The Walker

**A/N: Hello Everyone. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It is nice to hear compliments after being away for so long. I also wish to thank you very much for the publishing tips. **

**I can't begin to express how excited I am to have my account back up and running. I looked forward to posting my new chapter all day, and I hope that you enjoy it. I also greatly apologize for the short chapters. I am just starting to get back into the swing of things, and until then, I don't want to overdo it. I would rather post shorter... more detailed and perfected chapters to start out. **

**If there is any way I can improve this story, for you the readers to enjoy it more, please do not hesitate to make suggestions. Like I said before... you can't have a truly believable and touching love story... without some loss and suffering. **

**Again, thank you for reading.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Walker**

**A shroud of sorrow pummels against my chest  
A towering darkness I can't forget  
A Whirlwind of broken dreams  
A light in the distance I just can't reach.**

**A piercing cry and a winded scream**  
**An empty heart with a secluded dream**  
**A venomous mass seeping through my walls**  
**Losing my mind and feeling myself fall.**

"Oh, and Draco," Draco pulled his face up, just enough to look into Voldemort's dark eyes. "If they continue to resist being captured, kill them. All of them."

The chalky and shadowed face remained bowed towards the floor, the silver eyes like pools of endless molten. If any one person had their full and undivided attention directed towards Draco Malfoy that night, they may have caught a glimpse of the faintest shudder, the smallest of winces. Although, years and years of living in the shadows, cast down upon by all those who were meant to be his idols, a slight shiver was something out of the ordinary.

_Come on Draco. Pull yourself together. You are losing it, just like your crazed Aunt Bellatrix. _

Something in the death of Narcissa Malfoy had broken his trans. He no longer feared the outcomes the way he once had, and he no longer feared death.

For, through the years of serving under the devils wing, Draco had learned to forget pain. He had learned to kill, and to push all emotions and feelings deep within a vault in the back corner of his empty soul. Then, Granger had come into his life. Somehow, after all the years of endless torture, she found herself seeing that small and dim light at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel that seemed to stretch on for eons.

_Just one more Draco. Just one more bidding. Granger is bound to figure out the potion soon. Hell, who am I kidding? Merlin only knows! Out, shut it you stupid git! Arguing with yourself like a deranged black wizard. You really have lost your mind. The darkness is finally swallowing you whole. Draco! Pay attention!_

"Draco!"

The voice of his master was enough to wake him from his thoughts. His head lifted just enough for Voldemort to sense his awareness, though shadows still sheltered his pale complexion. Bellatrix was pacing backwards and forwards, her willow-bark wand twisting in her grasp. Her elongated, boney hands lifted as she pointed a single finger towards her nephew. She let out one menacing and bone-chilling cackle and shrilled:

"Come along Drakie, we haven't got all day."

Draco lifted himself from the floor, beginning to make his way over to where she was standing. His cloak trailed behind him in a black sea, his leather gloves wringing tightly together with clutched and angry fists. He stopped just beside his aunt, as she tip toed lightly around his leather-bound boots, as if mocking him. His head remained bowed, and he continued his stare towards the wall.

"This will be a lovely bonding experience for us, wouldn't you say... nephew?"

Draco felt his blood beginning to boil beneath his skin, as he finally lifted his head just high enough. High enough for the orange firelight to shine upon his white face. He stared at his aunt for what felt like an eternity, his face curling into an angry glimpse of his demons. It was the first time in a very long time, that he had seen his aunt double-take. Her smile faded and her eyes went cold.

"In my opinion, _Bellatrix._" He was sure to spit an extra amount of venom when he spoke her name. "You died and were buried before I was even born."

Without another word, he lowered his head once more, and vanished in a cloud of smoke, his flustered aunt following close behind.

Hermione found herself frozen and awe-struck, staring at the book in her shaky fingers. She had almost forgotten, what it felt like... to feel a spark of curiosity for something new... something worth learning. There were so many things that she had nearly forgotten. She made her way over to a dusty sofa nearby. Beside it sat a very large, Merlin, she had forgotten what it was called. She remembered Harry mentioning to her once, that Dumbledore had possessed one. An outlet, to store your memories.

Then she heard it.

A faint and muffled sound. The smallest of vibrations traveling up and through her bare toes. Malfoy had not thought to offer her footwear. Why would he? He only had her here out of his own selfish reasons.

It was while she was arguing with her own thoughts, that the sound began all over again. This time in multiples, and they were getting louder. Hermione found herself holding her breath out of forced habit, something she had learned while in prison. It calmed her nerves and helped her listen. Her instincts had now taken over.

Yes. The noise was definitely footsteps. Footsteps inflicted by very heavy feet.

Thump. Thump.

They were beginning to slow down now, but Hermione could sense that they were getting nearer and nearer. It was as if whomever or whatever was walking in her direction, they sensed her presence. That couldn't be possible, she had been so quiet.

Then she heard it. That sound.

That one distinct sound. Instantly Hermione found her mind dragging back to that god-awful cell... into the darkness.

The _clip, clip, clipping_ of a single retractable claw. Her heart immediately stopped beating. She knew what that sound meant. They were coming for her, the creatures from the prison. They had come to take her back to her hell. To the never-ending black. Without her wand she was helpless, she could not defend herself.

Malfoy was gone. He was nowhere in sight. No Avada Kadavera spell to save her now.

The door of the library creaked ever so slightly, Hermione still remaining perplexed and utterly frozen, her eyes locked on that door with full attention. Slowly she glanced around the room, for any way of escaping. Nothing. No windows. No second doors. She had walked herself right into another darkened cell. If only she had her wand.

There was another creak of the door, and it swung open ferociously. The screams of Hermione Granger echoed through the Malfoy Manor.

The dark forest remained just as dark, if not more dark then it had all those years before. Those years when Hogwarts was still a school, and its inhabitants battled for survival. Everything sat still, so still Draco could hear his own heart beating. His breath blew from his pale lips in thick and moist clouds.

He reached into his robes and removed his wand, beginning forwards, and deeper into the forest.

No centaurs. No spiders. Nothing. Not a single glimpse of life in the god-forsaken place. The Dark Lord had reached out with a black hand and cast all the world in shadow. What good was left in the world had gone from this place long... long ago.

Bellatrix hummed joyfully to herself, skipping and tossing the dried forest leaves about with her feet. She was stopped instantly by Draco's arm, slung out across her chest. Letting out a gasp of air, his aunt stared at him with a look of malicious loathing, just before she saw just what Draco had halted her for. Her look of loathing was immediately replaced with a devouring grin.

Just up the hill, no more then twenty paces away, stood two shadowy figures. Draco's eyes had grown accustomed to darkness, and were adjusting quickly. Still, however, he could not make out their faces. They were still as stones, the chilly breeze blowing their hair about just enough for Draco to catch. He stood stark still, wand at his side, reading to raise it to eye-level if need be. The time in which the four figures stood there seemed endless.

_Rebels. It has to be rebels. Run... just run away. Don't give me an excuse to kill you. Because if we battle, I will come out the winner. _

Draco's grip tightened around his wand, and he inhaled deeply. He was just about to utter an incantation, when the talon-like fingers of Bellatrix grasped at his shoulder. She yanked him towards her lips, whispering coldly into his ear. He felt instant chills. Then the words escaped her lips, making their way into his ear, and deep within the very pit of his soul. She said:

"Before you go running off to do his bidding, the Dark Lord wishes for me to give you something. Cho Chang was your test, and you passed."

Draco did not move an inch. It was as if she had petrified him where he stood. Perhaps she had, Voldemort was rewarding his most trusted subjects with new abilities. Abilities he had dug from the deepest of forbidden magic. Then his aunts whispers continued:

"**From the blood he shall be born, **

**The Walker. **

**Sworn to do his masters bidding, **

**He and death shall become one."**

Then came the pain. It was hot and heavy, shooting through him like a thousand needles, all fighting to escape his skin. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his hood slipped down his back. The next moment, Draco Malfoy found himself brought to his knees, hands shaking uncontrollably. Then, there was screaming. It wasn't until he finally realized it was his own agonizing screams that she finished her incantation:

"**Demons shall tremble at his feet, **

**And shadows will part in his wake,**

**The world will fear the very utter of his name,**

**And he shall be known as,**

**The Walker."**

The pain, which had so endlessly shot through his body, stopped instantly with the last murmur of the final verse, and Draco collapsed. His body convulsed and shook in frantic spasms, the smell of damp soil wafting into his nostrils. His eyes opened to reveal the earth parallel to his white face, and he saw the hundreds of insects beginning to surface, wriggling and scratching. Their mandibles and bodies were illuminated by a faint green light, a light he could not comprehend.

Giving out one final spasm, he lunged to his feet faster then most could follow with their eyes, wand once more raised at the ready. The green glow seemed to follow him, moving to wherever his eyes were focused. He glanced up towards the hill, the figures were gone. Bellatrix was cackling like a rabid dog, dancing about once again and chanting under her breath.

"Do you feel that Drakie? Do you feel the immortality flowing through your veins?"

He watched her carefully, brushing a lock of his blonde hair from his cold face. As he went to move his hand, he then realized that the glowing green light was coming directly from him. It was coming from his eyes. He took a horrified step backwards, his face curling as he shot daggers at Bellatrix.

"What have you done to me, you rotten old hag!" He spat, reaching upwards and touching his eyelids as he spoke. The sound of thousands of insects crawling above the forest floor was tickling at his eardrums. Something was different. His hearing. His hearing had definitely improved. It was as though he could hear the very cold itself, whispering his name. The rushing of the breeze in the branches. The cackling of a brook which he could not have heard with the most strained of ears just minutes ago.

"Welcome, my nephew!" Bellatrix coed, her hair falling over her face. "Welcome to the world of immortality! You have officially become a death walker. The second to be granted this generous gift from the Dark Lord himself, after your father of course."

"My eyes, what's happened to them!"

"Only in the dark they glow, dear boy. Only in the dark."

"Immortal! Draco hollered, gabbing his aunt fiercely by the shoulders. She only grinned wickedly in his directly. "Why have I not heard of this before!"

"The Dark Lord wanted to make sure that you were... worthy of these abilities. The darkest magic is what powers you now. You are immortal Draco... you will never age. You will live forever while others rot and die and soil themselves. You will be the one to go down in history beside the Dark Lord himself."

"Immortal?" Draco repeated, the world suddenly hitting him.

"Don't get too excited now, nephew." Bellatrix snapped, the grin suddenly gone from her face. "Death can still be brought to you through any means in which a mortal person may die. But now, Draco, you will not age. You will have ears that can hear the faintest of sounds, and eyes that can catch even the smallest movement. You will be, _His_ most powerful weapon-"

"STUPIFY!"

Draco heard the spell hollered just in time to grab hold of his wits. A massive wave of magic was cast upon him from the hill above. He only just raised his own wand in time, shielding himself from the blow. He felt slightly relived with the fact that he did not recognize the voice.

Bellatrix did not hesitate.

"Crucio!" She roared, a blood-curling scream echoing throughout the forest, as the man doubled over under the unforgivable curse.

Not so unforgivable these days.

Draco found himself cringing at the sounds of the mans screaming. Not physically. No, physically he showed no emotions. Mentally, that was a far different story. Then the dark sky was filled with magic, as Draco and the second figure up the hill began fighting for survival. Wave upon wave of magic was cast down the hillside in his direction, but Draco held his ground. Being at the bottom did give him a massive disadvantage.

Then there was a single second. One gap in which the wizard firing at him hesitated. That was that.

"Avada Kadavera!"

The mans body fell limp to the forest floor. The screams of the other man, however, were still loud and clear. Draco shot his aunt a nasty look, wondering how she could enjoy herself so. Then, without a word, he trudged up the hill towards the still alive man, and pointed his wand right against his forehead. No, it was no one he recognized.

He took a large gulp of saliva, his eyes glazed over, before he whispered:

"Avada Kadavera."

Bellatrix screamed in rage at his intrusion to her amusement.

Draco found himself taking a step back, his face cringing. He reached back and pulled his hood once more over his head, shadowing his face. He would not let her see his despair.

"Now, what were you saying you crazed old witch?" He hissed, slowly lifting his wand towards her face. "What weapon?"

Bellatrix took a step forwards, reaching up and under his hood and stroking his chilly skin. Once again, his insides began to boil in an endless rage.

"You, Draco Malfoy..." She said, in the faintest of whispers, "are going to kill them. Any and all that stand in the way of the Dark Lord... will die at your hands. For eternity."

Those words seemed a distant memory. Draco felt his knees grow weak. In that moment in time, there was nothing that could have wounded him more then the words he had just heard.

He thought then that there was nothing worth continuing on for anymore. Nothing that could ruin him more then he already was.

_That_ was what he believed.

The truth was however, that if Draco Malfoy had known that at that very moment, the girl known as Hermione Granger lay bleeding to death on his Library floor, he would have realized...

… that he really did have something to live for.

**A/N: Well, thank you for reading. As always, your support is noticed and appreciated. I will now take this moment to promise you that more answers will be given in the chapter to come, and maybe a taste of romantic connection, which I know many of you have been waiting for. **

**I also am going to start reading some of the other authors fics when I get the chance. If you think that your story might be something I could learn from or enjoy, please review and fill me in. I promise to review any and all stories I come across. **

**I do enjoy hearing from the people who are reading my story. So if you feel you have a compliment, or a criticism, or even just a comment... please do not hesitate. **

**DS**


	14. The Awakening

**A/N: Well I can say with all honestly that if this chapter doesn't catch the attention of many readers, then I am not sure what will! This is a chapter with a little of everything. Romance, death, violence, abuse, drama. Everything that the readers enjoy. **

**So... relax, read, and ENJOY!**

**You cant seem an angel,**

**until you first seem a freak.**

**I can't feel strong in your presence,**

**without first feeling weak.**

**You cannot make me happy,**

**If I wasn't once sad.**

**I cant see the good,**

**Without first seeing the bad.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**The Awakening**

Hermione lay on the dusty and cold stone floor of the Library, choking and spluttering in her own crimson blood. The creatures had come for her, they jagged eyes penetrating her soul. Their razor sharp claws had cut through her flesh and spilled her blood across the tiles. Everything felt so cold. The creatures were gone now. They had left her there to die.

Hermione tried to call out. She used every last portion of air in her lungs to exhale, calling out to the house elves. They could not hear her. No one could hear her. That sad and pitiful excuse for a man, Malfoy, was nowhere to be found. As her body convulsed and her vision began to blur, her head was swimming with his face. She was so far gone now, her body was beginning to fill with a soft euphoria. She found herself just begging Merlin that someone would find her, even just to be with during her last breaths.

It was ironic really, that Malfoy had rescued her from those creatures and from near death, only to have them show up at his manor and slaughter her regardless. She found herself wondering how that had found her.

Hermione was so far gone, that she did not hear the footsteps making their way up the massive staircase in the foyer. She did not hear the yells and the screams and the thudding of corpses falling to the floor just outside the library entrance. She didn't hear the door of the library swing open, and all was nearly dark in her eyes by the time his sweeping blonde hair fell into her sights. In the moment, her heart hammered with relief. Malfoy was back. He was a massive blur above her, but he was back.

She coughed uncontrollably and suddenly, hot blood spilling over her lips and down her chin. She was near losing consciousness now. Why wasn't he healing her, or moving forwards to assist her? Hermione knew that Malfoy had never been fond of her, but surely he wouldn't let her die. Doing her best to stare up towards his blurry face, her head continued to spin.

She was so dizzy... so tired.

If she could only sleep for just a moment.

Then she heard his voice. That cold, hiss of a voice. Even through ringing ears, and even after years of being locked in the darkness, she recognized it instantly.

"Well well well. What do we have here?"

Her heart, which had been slowing with relief just moments before, began screaming and kicking to break free from her chest. A rushed wave of hot panic overcame her limb from limb, as she struggled to move. Nothing. Her joints were not responding to her. She had nowhere to go. She came to the sudden realization, that she was going to die. She was too weak to save herself, and she was too weak to call for help. Regardless if she could call for help... no one interfered with the plans of the Dark Lord's second in command...

Lucius Malfoy.

The sky had opened up that evening. The rain had began to poor from the blackened sky, soaking Draco almost instantly. The threads of his robe and cloak felt cold and stiff against his skin. The constant sheath that was pummeling from the sky above was so thick, that he could barely see two inches in front of his pale nose. The hill up which they trudged was almost instantly a muddy landslide, making if difficult to traverse.

Regardless of the terrain. Draco would not let himself be caught off guard and downhill again. His mind was exhausted, filled with confusion and regrets. Immortal? How is that so? Even the Dark Lord had used his horrcruxes to protect his soul. What had his master dug up in his dark travels? The green glow emitting itself from Draco's eyes lit up the rain droplets like tiny green shooting stars, making seeing even more difficult. He didn't understand how this gave him any sort of an advantage.

Then, his brand-new, exceptional hearing picked up on the slightest of sounds. A snapping twig. Before his aunt could even blink, Draco had spun around on his heel, his wand pointed directly towards the sound. It was so dark however, that even his new vision could not see anything. If anything, how his eyes picked up on every small detail may have made seeing even worse.

The rebel shots came so fast.

The sky was filled with blinding lights, as spell after spell was cast in the direction of the two Death Eaters. It only took Draco a moment to realize that they were surrounded. He had been sent there to kill them all, and look what had happened. They were trapped. Trapped like helpless animals. Both lifted their wands at identical moments, returning fire with full force. Bellatrix wasn't risking using the Crucio curse now, when there was far too much at stake.

Draco fired blindingly through the storm, unable to see or hear anything. The rain was far too thick and the sky was far too dark. There was an instant where movement caught his eye. He spun around and fired the death curse. There was a soft thud as yet another body fell to the forest floor that night. Then, the strangest of sensations came over him. It was as though a fresh layer of skin was being pulled over his eyes. It felt hot and slippery. It coated even the very outwards edges of his irises and all went pitch black. Only for moments, however. In the next, the images of at least a dozen red figures formed amongst the trees.

It was as if his old eyes were removed, and replaced with better ones. Heat-detective ones. He could see the mass of every living body within those trees, each attempting at his life. The monster inside of him was once again unleashed, as he cast curse after curse towards all he could see. One by one they fell. Draco could hear Bellatrix howling with joy in the background.

His new power, however, blinded his better judgment. With the amount of magic he was casting out, it was only a matter of time before one of the rebels triangulated it to where he was standing. There were only three left alive, when a rebel spell was fired directly towards his face. He caught the flash of silver light just in time to leap out of its path, landing on the soaking cold floor and sheathing himself in mud. He spat and coughed, lifting himself back to his feet almost as quickly as he had fallen. That had been far too close.

Moments later, Bellatrix Lestrange had all three of the remaining rebels under the Crucio curse. Their screams filled the air so quickly, Draco was nearly caught off guard. Three left of so many. Bellatrix continued to point her wand in their direction, as three bodies fell to the ground, twitching in agonizing pain. Once again, Draco felt angered by her careless enjoyment. He just could not understand how she lived to torture.

He took a few steps forwards in the shards of rain, hitting his now exposed head like glass. It was already drenched, his bones chilled to the core. There was no reason to pull over his hood once again. His eyes fell onto the faces of the three helpless victims. His only relief, was that if his aunt had them under her curse, then they would not have to die.

No, they would be shipped off to the prison, tortured and raped. Just as Granger was. He admitted, there was a part of him that loathed Granger, but there was no part of him that believed she deserved such a cruel fate. No one did.

Something snapped inside the mind of Draco Malfoy that evening. A new and stronger form of hate bubbling inside of his pit of a soul. He turned and watched the face of his aunt, his eyes and nostrils flared like a freshly woken dragon. She grinned wickedly in his direction, at the exact same time a rebel he had believed dead, moaned in agony at his feet. Bellatrix, too deep in her Crucio curses to notice the fourth survivor, was not able to stop her nephew as he knelt down to examine the injured man. He had been hit with one of Draco's flame spells, and it had blasted right through his stomach. Draco found himself amazed that the man was breathing at all.

It was the red hair that made Draco's breath seize. It was the familiar blue eyes that stared up at him. The pale complexion and the angered expressions. The man choked and spluttered, and Draco flinched in the sudden realization of who is was.

"Weasley? You're supposed to be dead!" He whispered, turning his head and glancing back at Bellatrix. She had not realized who it was. Weasley gave a loud cough, before grabbing hold of the energy to spit the blood filling his mouth right onto Draco's face. The blonde did not even flinch. He was far too perplexed to react to this lash of rage.

The wound in the boys stomach smoked and hissed, the smell of burning flesh wafting into Draco's nostrils. Ron let out the quietest of whimpers, glancing from the wound to Draco and then back towards the wound again. Draco reached to his side and quickly retrieved his wand, pulling himself to his feet. He found himself swaying with dizziness, covered in mass amounts of blood. It wasn't until he considered just how much blood there was, that he realized he was also hurt. The curse that he had avoided only moments before, must have brushed his arm, because blood was oozing from the flesh under his torn robe.

Draco cringed, the pain suddenly hitting him, and for a moment he forgot all about Weasley dying at his feet. It wasn't in his nature to give a damn about him to begin with. He had always despised Weasley, even more then the rest.

Suddenly, the air around them was filled with a heart-stopping scream. There was a great hissing sound as the blood from Draco's arm pooled downwards and hit Ron's exposed skin. Wherever Draco's blood came into contact, the redhead's skin began to boil. The puncture wound through the mans stomach was emitting a loud screaming sound, as a kettle would when the water was boiled. Draco's blood was creating a reaction with the wound of his enemy. Confused and stricken, Draco took a step backwards, as Ron let out one final scream, before falling silent all together.

His screams were replaced by stifled breaths, the light returning to his eyes. Draco stood his ground in a massive confusion, as Wealsey hoisted himself up onto his elbows, examining his body. Where the wound had been only minutes before, sat smooth and healthy skin. It was as if the hole in his flesh was never there at all. The bloody ichor that had been secreting itself from his skin had stopped. He was completely healed. Both looked at each other for the smallest of moments, before Draco double took onto the cut on his arm. Blood still poured.

His blood. Had his blood healed Wealsey?

The horrified look on the ex-Griffandor's face was enough to make Draco turn swiftly on a heal. The three other survivors, the people Bellatrix had under the crucio curse, they were Weasley's family. Both his parents, and his younger sister.

_Hell, as if I could remember their names. _

A crazed feeling came over Draco that moment. A sudden realization that, he was far stronger then his deranged aunt Bellatrix. He was far faster. He, was the only body there who still had a grasp on his wand. Wealsey attempted to lift himself to his feet, but fell back almost instantly from weakness. The pain he had experienced had sucked the strength right out of him. Draco watched him struggling, crying out in anger for his family. He suddenly found himself jealous of the Weasley boy. Draco had never felt such concern and loyalty for his family, let alone his friends.

Then happened the moment, which would change Draco's life forever. The moment he realized who he really was. He, Draco Malfoy, had been the son of a coward and the nephew of a monster. He was the killer of hopes and the shatter-er of dreams, the dark messenger for the Dark Lord. His name was now just as feared as his masters. His hands were the ones that did the killing.

There was only a moments pause, between the mass of thoughts traversing their way through Draco's mind, to the moment when his wand let lose.

"Avada Kadavera!"

The green light which emitted from Draco's wand was so fast and so strong, it was almost invisible. Before the pale boy could even blink once, the cold hard body of Bellatrix Lestrange fell to the forest floor in and dead heap. The screams from the Weasleys instantly halted, as the three struggled to catch their breath.

It took many moments for Draco to realize what he had just done. He had just murdered his own flesh and blood in cold fashion. The hot rage which surged through his veins shocked even him. Never had killing felt so good. Never had it felt so right.

The four Weasleys were all staring at him with horrified and confused stares, the cold rain still clouding the air. Draco turned his head, lifted his wand and shouted:

"Accio wands!"

All four of the remaining rebels wands launched from beneath the soaked ground and levitated their way into his hands. At the sight, the Weasleys all fell back in fear, cowering at what he would do next. The fear that was in their eyes, it made Draco just as afraid of himself as they were. Would he ever be able to repair the damage he had made? Would he ever be able to repent?

"Just, get it over with you filthy prat!" Ron shouted, his voice roaring over the rainfall. Draco shot daggers at the redheaded boy he had once been classmates with. His eyes began to burn at the sound of those words, as if for the first time he was waking up. He turned his head, letting his neck crack at the joints, before tossing the Weasley's each their wands. The moment the magical instruments were in their hands, they all rose to their feet.

"So it's a fight you want?" Asked the girl, her long red hair falling over her face. Mud plastered her arms and her legs, as she glared at him through the darkness. "You sick monster!"

"I want nothing from you!" Draco roared, his fists and jaw clenching at the sound of her accusations. They all looked taken aback by this. "Just go! Run! Don't look back! You can't win this fight, there is only one person who can... and that person is me."

Then, without so much as another word, Draco had vanished in a flash of robes and smoke once more.

The blonde Malfoy appeared into the sudden hot and damp of his bedroom. His knees buckled and he fell into a soaked heap on the floor. The sudden realization of what he had done, flowed through his every fiber.

He had killed his aunt. He had let the rebels escape. Now... he would surely suffer the dark and horrible consequences which awaited him. There was no escaping the Dark Lord. Nowhere to hide.

For the first time since his mother died, Draco Malfoy sobbed uncontrollably. Huddled into a tight black ball, hot tears streamed down his frozen face, burning his lips. His eyes ached from whatever mutation they had suffered. His arm ached from his battle wound. His soul ached... oh how his soul ached. He tossed onto his side and let out the loudest of screams, flailing and pounding his bed frame with a closed fist. He pulled back, petrified in surprise when his fist passed right through the solid oak. Not only was he immortal, he was also much stronger.

He had hardly any time to contemplate this however. For somewhere within the house, a woman's scream echoed his. It was faint, he could tell, but his new hearing granted him the power to detect it.

"Malfoy!"

Ten years from that night, if you asked Draco what had powered him that evening, he still would not have the answer. Hearing Granger's scream triggered an emotion deep within his heart, an emotional of panic and concern. Snatching up his wand and leaping to his feet, he disappeared with a loud _crack,_ and found himself standing directly between his father, and the near-dead Hermione Granger.

His father seemed startled by his presence. It was as though he had not expected Draco home for some time. The thought suddenly occurred to Draco that, maybe sending him into the forest had been a set up. The Dark Lord must know. He had too. Bellatrix had been sent with him to murder him in cold blood that night. It was all just part of the master plan.

Draco felt his face cringe at the sound of Granger's weak whimpers. She slithered on the cold stone floor, helpless and dying. However, Draco knew that he could not rescue her, until he had rid himself of his father once and for all.

There was a very long and drawn out silence between father and son at that moment. The only sounds were those of Hermione groaning in pain. Draco took a moment to scan the room briefly with his new vision. Blood littered the floor, pooling and running through the cracks in the stone like red rivers. She had lost far too much blood. More panic came over him. Granger was his only hope of avenging his mothers death, and putting an end to it.

His silver eyes once more locked with those of his fathers. Both men shot at each other with hatred and malice.

There was no love among demons. No compassion. Just raw rage, and the thirst for one another's blood.

The battle began so quickly, that Draco felt as though he was in a dream. He felt he watching himself through the eyes of someone new... someone good. Someone who could never fathom the desire to murder your own flesh and blood.

Hermione desperately tried to keep her eyes open. Lucius had healed her only enough. Enough to be able to feel the pain. It was unbearable, and it was endless. Her arms and legs would not do as she asked, and her head was swirling in an endless oblivion. Black stars filled her vision, as the the blurred masses of father and son began to battle. Magic shot and whistled through the air like gunfire, blasting through glass and stone. She heard the younger of the Malfoy's let out the loudest of screams, though, she could not gather whether it was a scream of pain or a scream of anger.

Then, the darkness consumed her.

She awoke to the most horrifying pain she had ever experienced. After spending so long a time in prison, being raped night after night, being beaten, bruised and torn, she now prayed for those pains to return. There was nothing that could compare to what she was feeling at that moment.

Her eyes shot open like darts, the light from a nearby torch blinding her vision. She cried out in agony, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She just wanted it to end. Merlin, please just let it end.

Then, the light from that torch which blinded her so, was shadowed by a hooded figure. Hermione felt herself struggling to escape, not knowing which of the Malfoy's had come out of the fight alive. It wasn't until his pale and slender fingers reached forwards and took hold of her face that she knew. Looking upwards once more, her eyes fell into his.

Only, his eyes were changed. From where there once was soft silver, now there was a piercing green. It illuminated his white face, and warmed her skin.

She was startled as Draco shook her head violently.

"Granger!" He hissed, as her head fell limp onto her shoulder. "Stay awake! You have to stay awake!"

Her eyes shot open to full capacity once more, as the boy she had always detested with every waking of her being, reached into his robes and took hold of his wand. Turning her head to the side, her eyes fell onto the lifeless pupils of one Lucius Malfoy, bathing in his own blood just feet away. Hermione found herself letting out a wild gasp. Malfoy had done it. He had killed his last remaining family. The thought had somehow distracted her momentarily from the pain that she was feeling, as Draco touched his wand to his hand and uttered an incantation. She wondered of the pain he must be feeling. He looked unscathed.

Another scream. She could not control her reactions any longer. Malfoy had lifted his hand, scarlet liquid now pouring from his freshly cut palm. Hermione felt petrified as he pushed the new cut to her lips, smothering her. She could not breathe, and began to panic.

"Drink it! Now!"

Draco began to feel a wave of panic as he watched her resit his aid. There was a sudden feeling of emptiness and then more panic. He had just killed his father. If Granger died, he would be left entirely on his own, with no one to confide in but his own twisted hatred. He saw Hermione as his light, his only guidance through the darkness. He found himself momentarily thinking that she reminded him of his mother.

Every memory of Granger, of how he hated her and their differences, seemed to disappear that night. As he watched her eyelids flutter with so little life, he couldn't help but fight. Hell, he was willing to put up a fight, why wasn't she?

He took a deep breath, reaching forwards and grabbing hold of her frozen nose with his fingertips, pinching and blocking all airways. She had no choice now, she would have to drink. She gagged and spat, rejecting the blood as best she could. At least a drop or two must have found their way into her system. Draco truly had no idea if this idea would work, only that her wounds were too vast to poor the blood.

Draco grinned for the first time in as long as he could remember, as her body went stiff as a drawing board, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Then came the screams, the screams that seemed to go on far longer then Wealsey's had. His blood was working. She was mending.

The wounds on her skin began to hiss and squeal, sealing as if they were never there at all. Her bruises slowly faded, revealing her soft smooth skin once more. Her screams slowly lessened, and then that had stopped all together.

Her eyes, having closed with the relief, fluttered opened only moments later.

Draco felt his heart skip, only once, something he had never experienced before. Something he did not yet recognize as compassion for another human being. Without realizing, he had lifted a single hand to her warm cheek, caressing it gently, unaware of the childish smile plastered to his exhausted face.

Draco Malfoy let out a long and exasperated sigh of relief.

Not only was Granger healed. She looked better then she had before he had left that evening.

Hermione Granger looked better that she ever had.


	15. Almost Dark

Chapter Fifteen

Almost Dark

Hermione awoke to silken sheets kissing her skin. A warm fired crackled nearby, cascading warmth across her face. The room was dark, but she recognized it all the same. It was Malfoy's room. The wooden doorway sat open just slightly, and from out in the hallway, she could hear a faint rustling.

Rubbing her eyes delicately, she stretched out her arms and released a massive yawn. She felt fantastic. Better then she had felt in years. It wasn't until her memory began to return, that the panic set in. Letting out a quiet yelp, Hermione slipped out from under the sheets and put her bare feet onto the cold floor. The rustling outside of the doorway was getting louder.

Then the blonde head of Malfoy came into view. Hermione watched him carefully, the memory of how he had saved her life now fresh in her mind. He looked as if he was struggling with something. As she continued to watch, she realized that he was dragging a large mass down the corridor.

It was the body of his father.

"Malfoy! What are you doing?" Hermione found the words escaping her lips faster then she could process them.

Draco stopped what he was doing, and the body flopped to the floor with a heavy _thud_. His face was covered with perspiration and his brow was folded. He looked mortified. And those eyes, glowing a murky green and radiating the bedroom floor with their light. They were so ominous. Hermione found herself wondering what they meant. She wondered how he had saved her life.

He forced the faintest of smiles in her direction.

_He didn't just save your life, Hermione. He healed you... without the use of his wand. _

Hermione took a nervous step forwards, opening her mouth to speak. Her words were caught in her chest, however, and her mouth fell closed once again. She cleared her throat hoarsely.

"Malfoy, why not just levitate the body out?"

Draco dropped the corpse of his father once again, reaching up and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his robes. Hermione watched as the face of the most feared head-hunter in the wizarding world, went from angry to exhausted. His eyebrows fell downwards and he lips uncurled.

There was a pause in which he swayed momentarily on the spot, before collapsing all together.

"Malfoy!" Hermione screeched, leaping through the doorway and kneeling beside him. His eyes, which had rolled back in his head only seconds before, were now staring up at her as she took his head into her lap. Hermione could feel him shaking. She could only imagine what must be going through his head at this moment.

His father was dead by his wand.

His own father...

She shuddered at the thought.

Draco seemed to swallow roughly, choking slightly before speaking.

"I placed too many protective spells on the house." His voice was quiet and faint. "The moment my father fell. The Dark Lord can sense these things. I didn't have a choice. You were too weak to move anywhere. The spells I placed on the house, they prevent anyone from using magic, including the caster. At least, that's until I have the energy to throw up some better ones."

Malfoy groaned angrily, forcing himself upwards onto his elbows. Hermione moved back, enough for him to have his space. He let out another groan.

"Malfoy, I wanted to thank you." Hermione forced the words from her lips. She found it difficult, apologizing to one of the people who had caused all of the grief and suffering so many had endured. "If you hadn't been there, well... I would be dead, wouldn't I?"

Malfoy let out a snort, forcing himself to his feet just as quickly as he had fallen. He brushed himself off briskly before once more taking hold of his father's cold dead shoulders. Hermione could see his struggle.

He was so weak.

She moved forward and took hold of the mans feet, removing some of his burden.

"Granger, I saved you because you are the only hope left for bringing back Harry Potter." He hissed, not looking at her as he spoke. "Without you, I can't hope to resurrect him, and without him, I can't hope to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all."

_Thump._ Hermione released Lucius's legs at those words. Draco stopped what he was doing also, watching her with a slight intrigue.

"What is it, Granger?" The words seemed to escape his lips like daggers.

"Do you really think that bringing someone, anyone, back from the dead is a good idea?" She asked, hands now placed firmly onto her hips. "I have given this a great deal of thought. Even if your mother found a spell to go along side that potion recipe, messing with affairs of the 'Dearly Departed' is never something that is advised by anyone-"

"Well seeing as the Dark Lord can only die at the hands of Harry Potter, I don't really see much of a choice." Draco flared, stepping in front of her with a sweep of robes. Hermione found herself taking a nervous step backwards, feeling the stone wall behind her. "Unless of course, you have got a better idea, Granger?"

There was a long pause. A pause in which the only sounds were of the two breathing. Hermione could feel his breath on her face. His eyes seemed to eat into her soul. She could see the pain in them. She took a deep breath, before she spoke once more.

"Are you alright?"

Malfoy stepped away from her almost as quickly as he had come. It was as if the sheer thought of the compassion from another human being was equivalent to a blast in the chest. Hermione watched his every move, doing her best to keep still.

She felt as if she was attempting to approach a caged animal. His jaw and fists clenched:

"I'm fine Granger, I can take care of myself. I always have. What's all this about then?"

Suddenly, there was a faint _hiss_. It traveled through the passage, right into Hermione's very core. She felt her own muscles tensing, as she continued to stare at Draco. Her stalker was back. That same creature that had been after her in the library.

The air was beginning to grow cold, and all went dark. The only source of light now was that of Draco's eyes. Hermione turned on a heel, glancing around this way and that. She could see nothing but eternal blackness. Then she felt Malfoy's hand on her arm, squeezing it almost too tightly. Then his breath was once more falling down her neck, as he whispered:

"There is a cloaked figure, not five feet in front of where we are standing. I can see it. It is looking right at you, Granger. What is it?"

Hermione felt her throat tighten, and her entire body begin to grow hot.

"It's after me." She replied, not daring to move a muscle. "It has always been after me. Since I went against the Dark Lord. I have tried for years to understand what it is. The only conclusion I can come to is that it's a curse placed on me. A haunting curse, no more. But, now that I know you can see it also, I am not so sure anymore."

Malfoy let out a soft _hiss _of his own, his eyes not moving from the figure he could see in the blackness. Hermione, trusting his judgment, followed his lead as he pulled her behind his back. She grabbed hold of his arms tightly, pressing her face to his shoulders as he took a step forwards. There was another _hiss_ from the creature, and a loud crashing. Then silence.

There was a long moment, when once again the only sounds were those of their breathing, and then the light returned. Hermione found herself letting out an exasperated sigh of relief. She had not realized, that her face was still pressed against Malfoy's robes. He turned to look at her, a wave of confusion rushing over his pale features. The torchlight seemed to dance across his cheekbones, his smooth complexion so close to her own face. Neither seemed to notice that they were in each others arms.

"It seems that we both have our demons to face." Draco whispered, his eyes flooding over Hermione's features. She could see the swells beginning to form in the bottoms of his eyes, and that's when she found herself overcome with pity.

Just what did it mean to be a Malfoy?

How much had he truly seen... felt... heard?

What was going through his head day after day?

Her hand seemed to lift itself at that moment. It made its way up his chest, and rested against his cheek. She was utterly astounded when he didn't pull away from her. His eyes only continued to stare, long and hard towards her. Then a single, long tear rolled its way from his left eye, and past his lips, though he still didn't blink. She could tell he was struggling not to break down.

Hermione moved her face slightly closer to his. She was unsure what was inspiring her to do so, but she did it all the same. His hot breath was falling over her lips, as she now stood on her toes to be level with his face. Her arms were now firmly around his shoulders, and her nose was but a centimeter from his own.

Still, he did not pull away.

The hot breath which continued to escape his lips sent shivers through her very core. No thoughts went through her head but what was happening this very moment.

No _"What the hell are you doing?"_'s

Or _"What the bloody hell are you thinking?"_'s

No thoughts other then, how badly she longed to kiss him. Perhaps it was the fact that she had been surrounded by so much darkness as of late. Perhaps it was his valiant rescue. Hermione did not know. All she knew was that at that moment, there was nothing standing between her kissing the lips of her nemesis but a single small distance. A distance which was finally closed.

His body seemed to tense against her own, as their lips touched. She could feel the tickle of his eyelashes and damp from the tear he had let fall. The areas where his skin touched hers seemed to pulse with vibrations, sending signals all the way down through her toes. They barely moved now, the kiss slow and gentle. Hermione found herself forgetting all about everything going on in the outside world. She forgot about Harry and Voldemort.

Draco let out a deep breath against her face, pulling away seconds after, staring straight into her eyes as his hands made their way down towards her hips, grabbing hold tightly.

That was that. The second the weight had been placed on Hermione's hips, she became panicked.

Memories began flashing back into her mind in a sudden wave. Memories of the dark cell she had called home for so many years. Memories of being grabbed at and poked and brutally tortured. She then realized that, people don't just recover from a trauma such as that.

She let out a faint gasp, yanking herself loose from Malfoy's arms. He stood there, watching her with a new found curiosity. She could not explain, she only looked towards the floor. It was then also, that, she found herself angered with the fact that she had taken advantage of his one weak moment. He seemed to process the same thought, because he immediately cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Hermione felt her body convulsing at the thoughts of her dark past. She felt like screaming out loud at the top of her lungs, and flailing through the air at invisible enemies.

How would she ever become whole again?


End file.
